Tryst
by only2blame
Summary: Sequel to "Of Age and Innocence". 10 years down the road, and the coincidences just keep coming... NE/Troll
1. Chapter 1

_Hey hey. I gotten some very sweet, wonderful reviews for "Of Age and Innocence", so I figured I'd throw up the sequel to the story. It's been pretty popular on other sites so far, so I hope it's as well received here.  
_

_Anyway, enjoy the story. I'm having a Hell of a time writing it, and I hope you like it as much as I do._

_Much love._

_a - a - a - a - a - a  
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That first night I lay in the grit and chill of the roadside ditch, whispering prayers to whatever God or Goddess was listening to me. It did not matter if it was an Alliance or Horde Deity; I figured that if any felt an inclination to be merciful to a pitiful creature like me, then I'd take what they would give. The dirt was getting into my wounds, my blood mixing with the mud, and the rain did not come at all. I prayed, watching the cold, early morning light break through the horizon and touch the ground around me. I prayed for the culmination of whatever fate the Gods had set out for me, but my only answer was a chilled wind blowing over the hills.

I don't remember if I prayed for death or life. I don't know if my prayers were answered or not.

By the time the sun had finally passed the horizon, I had no feeling in my toes and fingertips. I flexed them – they were workable – but the pins and needles beneath my skin sent shocks up my limbs into my bones. It was mildly annoying, but bearable. I lay for a while longer, before I decided that wallowing in the mud was obviously getting me nowhere. I had not died during the night, and no one had come on me in the dark. The only alternative I had left was to get up, and try to find my mount.

I still had no idea what it was that had scared the wretched beast. Raptors did not spook easily, and she had been specially trained for front lines battle. It would have taken an epic event to cause her to throw me and disappear into the night.

My hand gripping a dislocated shoulder, I struggled out of the ditch. Layers of dried mud cracked and fell off of my in sheets, crumbling beneath my feet as I stepped over them. The road in either direction was clear, and the air eerily silent. There was a thin mist over the valley and surrounding hills. Trees were silhouettes in the distance. I was in a vacuum, and it did nothing to calm my nerves. I gritted my teeth, and gave a quick yank on my arm. The shoulder ground and popped, snapping back into place. To my shame a noise escaped during the process, but it did not carry, much to my relief.

With that done, I was left with the dilemma on which way to go. The area in which my mount had thrown me was one of those mirrored places – it looked the same in all directions, as though I were looking into a still pool; the reflection the exact replica of reality. I was lost, with no clue as to which direction I was meant to go.

Sighing, I procrastinated further in my choice by checking my gear. My backpack had been strapped to my Raptor's saddle, so I did not have any potions or even my Hearth Stone on me. All that I had in my possession were my daggers, my armor, and a small vial of low grade poison. I did not even have my missive, the very thing that had led me to this damnable place. With nothing left to keep me lingering, I took a deep breath, and headed down the road.

Without a clear view of the sun, as storm clouds were rolling across the sky and fog blanketing the ground, I had no idea how long I moved forward. It could have been minutes or hours, the only thing anchoring me to reality was the ache in my bones and injuries. With all the time in the world, my mind began to wander. It visited dark places, my own doom and death, then to warmer times beneath the swaying palms of Sen'jin and the sun baked stones of Durotar. I had never known my homeland, but the land of the Orcs had been my birthplace. It seemed just as good a place as any, now. Though, back in my youth, it was the last place in the world I had wanted to be.

I suppose that was why I had ventured so far west, into the Barrens on the night of my Adulthood.

My family and tribe had not expected me to go much further than the boundaries of our town. Perhaps I would go as far as Orgrimmar, as I was headstrong and sure of myself. I had every intention of becoming a Hunter, then, and was charged with finding a great beast to slay and return home with as my trophy. I had suffered the hours of the day with the ritual scarring, the intricate designs that took several applications before they stayed. To permanently scar a Troll took dedication and patience; to allow someone the time needed to do so was a mark of bravery and grit. Each of my Tribe, when old enough, went through this process. So as the sun sank past the ocean line, I was feeling rather strong in mind and body. I had made it through the first step to becoming an Adult, and it made me foolish.

I moved west, under the cover of the creeping shadows, and crossed the river into the Barrens.

By the time I had come upon her, it was already pitch dark.

I had sat up in one of the low growing trees, my rifle at the ready as I waited for some acceptable game to come by. I had killed a boar earlier in the evening, skinned and cut for dinner. I was waiting for something grand, something difficult and worthy of a man like myself when I had heard the screaming.

Through the gloom I saw her, a Night Elf female, running as fast as her little dress would allow her to. Behind her, hot on her heels were a small pack of Quilboar, grunting and snorting and squealing in delight at the easy fare. She was blind in her panic, running to nowhere safe. I should have let her run by, to get eaten alive by the ugly bastards, but something inside of me must have gone insane. As she reached my tree, I hooked my legs around the branch and fell forward, grabbing hold of her and lifting her up into the tree with me.

She fought and kicked like an animal, and I held her still and quiet as best I could. Her pursuers ran past, not even realized that she was just a few feet above them, and disappeared into the night. She calmed down when she figured out that they had gone. At least, she was calm until she saw me.

I'd like to say that I wasn't hurt by her reaction, but really, what did I expect? Kisses and hugs and praise? She was a Night Elf, snotty and full of herself by design, and I was just a Troll. She screamed, fell, and I caught her again. Once we finally made it to the ground and she calmed down enough to really take a look at me, I got my first real look at her.

I tell you, right now, I had never seen anything prettier in my entire life.

It was dark, lending strange shadows to her color, but it was pretty all the same. Her eyes were huge, round and wide and glowing faintly in the dark. Her clothing was cloth, her boots leather, and I couldn't resist the urge to touch the craftsmanship. Intricate patterns had been sewn into the top and around the laces, and they felt soft beneath my fingertip. I must have spoken my thoughts out loud - ibeautiful/i - because she stiffened almost immediately. When I met her eyes again, I knew what I had to do.

The walk to my camp went much faster after I swept her up into my arms and started out at a brisk jog. She clung to me like seaweed, burying that little nose into my neck. Now, I am a proud Troll, with every intention at that point to find a suitable mate and breed plenty of offspring. But there was something about the smell of her, the softness to her, that made something in me tense and coil. My mind, young and full of ideas began to plot and whisper, to urge me to do things with that female that she would surely not appreciate.

So when we reached the camp, I tried to keep my distance, but she just would not stop. She luxuriated on my bed, rolled around on my furs, spreading her scent and softness all over the place. She looked at me as though I were something amazing, something she just wanted to crawl into and investigate. It was flattering and unnerving at the same time, if that makes any sense. I tried to ignore it, but she would not allow my attention to waver.

I finished cooking our dinner, and she came to eat with me. Again, I blame insanity, for I suddenly yanked her down to my lap. She made a little noise of surprise, but quickly grew comfortable, her behind pushing against me in ways that brought up those dark little thoughts again, and I knew I couldn't resist much longer.

When she had me feed her bits of cooked meat, and licked the juices from my fingers, I felt that coil inside of me snap.

And I had her.

She was all softness and curves and wetness. She cried and mewled and clawed. She touched me all over, begged me to make her mine. When she drew blood across my back, my instincts took over and I treated her as roughly as any Troll would while rutting. She wanted every moment, every brutality my sex hazed mind could create. And when I sank my teeth into her shoulder, when I felt her insides clench around me, everything in the universe shifted and I broke apart.

In the early morning light I watched her sleeping, brushed stray hair away from her cheeks. Her shoulder was bruised and swelling – it would scar. The entire bed, even myself, smelled of her and her homeland. She was beautiful while she slept, while caught in her dreams. And as I looked at her, the pieces of me that had broken away during our mating began to mend together in the wrong places, and I knew I would never be who I was.

I packed as quietly as possible, leaving the bottom fur out of necessity. Just before I left the camp, I knelt next to her sleeping form, and gave her what I could. I lent down and kissed her cheek, relishing the warmth there for one last time, and cut a single braid from my hair. I had seen her admiring the beads earlier in the night, and knew that somehow, that it would be important to her that she have one. I tucked the braid into her pocket, and disappeared into the early morning gloom.

Years later I had become adept in the world of Rogues, and though foolish enough to garner injury and the loss of my right eye, I had been fairly successful at my profession. And not a year went by that I did not think of that Night Elf, small and soft and pretty, laying beneath me in the cold Barrens night.

I guess that's why I did something so incredibly stupid as to try and find her again.

I really don't know what it was that drove me to start the line of inquiry. I kept it as quiet as possible, answered as few questions as I could get away with. But despite the lengths I went to, I could not explain to anyone, or even myself, why it was that I sought the Night Elf. I had not gone so far in my interest as to swear off other women – and believe me, there were plenty of women in a 10 year span – or even compared all my bed partners to her. She was a one time occurrence, a bubble in the threading, and really, there was no reason to seek her out once more. To even consider it was dangerous, and would most likely lead to disappointment for myself.

So I remained as detached as I could about the matter. I sent inquiries, left hints, called in a favor here and there. You know... showed a mild interest in the project. All the Heavens help me, I didn't really expect to see anything come of it.

I had been searching for almost a year, and had taken some time for myself in Booty Bay. I very much enjoyed the salty air and the thick mead the Goblins served. When a friend and contact of mine approached me in the corner of the pub, carrying a sealed letter, I was so surprised I did not even finish my drink.

That letter had brought me to where I currently was, injured and limping down a deserted road that looked the same no matter how I tilted my head. I had accepted that my Raptor was long gone as well as my Worldly possessions, and I would most likely be set on by a group of Alliance guards at any point. For a few minutes I seriously considered just sitting at the side of the path to wait for them – walking didn't seem to be doing me any good, after.

I had just convinced myself that sitting down was the most brilliant plan conceived when I caught the scent of woodsmoke and cooking spice. Being headstrong that I was, my original plan was quickly cast aside, and I followed my nose.

The scent carried me along at least another ten minutes, veering off the main path which though I was loathe to leave behind me, could not compare to the possibility of life and food. Perhaps this person cooking this wonderfully satisfying meal had bandages, or was a healer themselves and wouldn't mind attending a few broken ribs.

Finally, finally, after minutes of tripping over stones and thick tufts of high grass, I caught sight of a dim glow in the fog – a campfire, blazing cheerily in the distance. With renewed vigor I went forward as fast as my injuries allowed. Panting, sweating, it seemed every obstacle in the stupid ground decided to get in my path and I stumbled more than I walked, but eventually, I made it to the outside ring of the firelight.

I only found that the camp was empty. The bags and bedroll were in place, the spider meat was cooking over the spit. Everything was as it should have been, except for the camper.

I sighed, my one eye dropping closed as I felt the muzzle of a hunting rifle press into the base of my skull. Of course I was being ambushed – it wasn't as though I had thought this approach through. I probably sounded like a herd of storm crazed Kodos coming toward the camp. Of course the owner of said camp would lay in wait and catch a possible enemy off guard. It was only natural, and exactly what I would have done.

"Undu, Uuavanimo."

Of course, I wasn't banking on the camper to be Alliance. Just one more line on a long list of things I had royally screwed up in the past week. I sighed again, and slowly dropped to my knees, being careful to go slowly, my hands raised to show I was no threat. Granted, I was lucky the person hadn't shot first and demanded obedience at point blank range later, but life's funny like that, ya know?

I winced when I heard the hammer pulled back on the gun, and before I knew what I was doing, I completely blew my biggest secret ever.

I spoke. It wasn't a lot, or even pronounced right, I'm sure, but I spoke in Common. And what did I do, while exposing my big huge gigantic secret? Acted and sounded like an ass, of course.

"I monster, no. Kill, no. Hurt in past. Friendly?"

Don't get me wrong, I can actually hold a decent conversation in that language when not threatened with an immediate hole through my skull. It's just that when you're close to panic, brushing up against Lady Death twice in as many days, and on your knees with a gun to your head, you kind of lose the ability to articulate in your _own_ language, let alone a foreign one. So forgive me for sounding like an idiot. What I had meant to tell this person was, in fact, that I was not a monster (that's what "Uuavanimo" means, by the way.), and that they should not kill me. Especially since I was already injured and of no threat to them. Compile all these facts together good sir/madam, and you will see that I can be quite friendly?

Regardless of my best intentions, as was my lot in life it seemed, my little speech did nothing to dispel my captor's disposition. I heard boots moving across the ground, and I dared not turn my head toward the body slinking around me. Instead, I waited until the warden had come into my immediate view, and my eyes snapped up to her face.

Her skin was a pale lavender, her hair a deep, dark mossy green. Her eyes were huge and round, glowing faintly in the dim light. She wore a body suit of hand tailored leather, spells and enchantments creeping over the craftsmanship like oil on water. Her ears were long and pointed, extremely elegant for her slender face. I felt something in me twitch as I stared up at her face, at the familiar curve of her cheek. I was not sure what I was seeing, until my eye focused just below her left ear where dangling there, braided into her own green hair was a single, purple braid with hand carved beads and a painted rodent skull securing the ends together.

I snapped my eye back to hers, and my mouth opened to speak, hardly believing who it was I had stumbled across, but she beat me to the punch.

"Talk later, you bastard."

And then, the butt of her shotgun had intimate relations with the side of my head, and the world was wonderfully black.


	2. Chapter 2

You would think that, being a Rogue and all, I'd be used to getting knocked out. Rivalries are at a high point in the profession, so, naturally, people are always trying to get me incapacitated. I'm not as infamous as some, but I definitely have a reputation. There's plenty of glory in the concept of taking me out, so I've had my fair share of knocks to the head. That doesn't mean that I've gotten accustomed to it, though.

Waking up after being knocked out is always the same – painful as Hell. Your head throbs, your eyes sting, and of all things, your nose feels like its some strange sort of bubble, growing out of your face. If you're lucky, the place where you got hit has stopped bleeding, so you're not blinded from bodily fluids. If your luck holds out, the person who hit you managed to miss some key nerve points so you wake up with fully functioning limbs. I've seen the damage that can be done from a blow to the head. It's not pretty stuff.

The Night Elf seemed to know what she was about though, and I tested my fingers and toes to further hammer that thought home. All ten digits were wiggling freely, and I gradually became aware of the fact that I was sitting upright. Of course, my hands were bound behind my back, my ankles were synched together, and I was leaning against the trunk of a tree. There was a loud rushing in my ears, and I eventually realized that I was hearing the ocean beat against a cliff side, not just the blood thrumming in my head. I felt comfortably cool, so I figured that maybe we were pretty near the ocean, or under the cover of shade. I had no idea what time it was, and as I opened my good eye, I saw that the fog had yet to lift. I wondered if it ever would.

The smell of cooked meat met my nose again, and I sniffed the sweet smell. My stomach growled, and my mouth started to water. And I cursed my traitorous senses and reaction when there was suddenly a sharp kick to my ribs.

The sound I made, a sort of half-gasp, half-gurgling noise must have satisfied the Night Elf, because she didn't come at me a second time. Instead, she squatted down next to me, taking hold of one of my tusks and yanking my head around so I could face her. I blinked sleepily at her, trying to keep my face as passive as I could. It wouldn't do me any good to swear vengeance against her, or to beg for my life. The girl I knew ten years ago was apparently gone, in favor of this seasoned warrior who had no sympathies for me. Maybe, back then, I could have convinced her to set me free, to feed me, to mend my bones, but now? Now I'd be lucky if she let me lick the grime from the bottom of her boots.

I tried to convince myself that I felt nothing, let alone disappointment.

"Nothing to say, Troll?"

I just kept staring at her, trying so damn hard to remain unmoved by this turn of events. My silence seemed like a damper for her, and she nodded, a small smirk tilting the corner of her pretty little mouth.

"Good. That just means the Sentries will have more fun with you." She released my tusk with a rough shove, and stalked back toward her fire.

And again, because I'm apparently an idiot, I couldn't keep my mouth shut, "Ya mean ta' turn me inta' tha' authorities?"

Oh Gods above, thank you for your moment of clear speech!

She halted, her back turned to me, and afforded me an over the shoulder glance. Her brow was lifted, as though surprised I would ask such a question, "I do. So you had best get comfortable, Troll. They will be along before the day is through."

I sighed, leaning my head back against the trunk of the tree she had propped me against. My toes curled – they were starting to fall asleep. Stupid thrills of pins and needles. I've had needles stuck beneath my skin before; it's not an experience I'd care to repeat.

"So whut' makes you 'tink I need ta' be turned inta' yo faction, Elf? Maybe I's jus' a harmless travellah'."

Personally, I thought the question was valid. But she laughed at me; a full on, out loud, head thrown back laughter that gave me odd trembles in my stomach. I have to admit that seeing her smile like that was almost worth the broken ribs and threat of imminent doom. Too bad she had to open up her damn mouth and ruin the fun.

"You? With all those lovely little daggers hidden all over your body? I somehow doubt you're without guilt."

Ok, what would you have done? Seriously?

I grinned at her, more of a leer, really, "Found mah' stash, didja'? Ya see anytin' else ya liked, Elf?"

I was glad to see that she was not as dense as she was bitchy. Her smile fled, her eyes got huge, and that pretty little flush spread across her face like a wild fire. She only allowed a drop to her guard for a moment, though, and quickly replaced it with white-hot fury. Again, to see her be normal, similar to the girl I had known for a single night, was worth the second kick to my ribs.

I was still laughing, even when the force of her boot knocked me over onto my side.

"Shut up! Just shut up, you depraved pig!"

She stomped around me, having what you could call a tantrum, I suppose. I could guess why, too, you know.

Of course, by that point, I had my suspicions that she didn't realize who I was, though I had pegged her from the start. With her behavior so far, though, I wasn't sure I wanted to just outright try and jog her perceptions. She was more than ready to stab me in the face and leave me to bleed out, and I wasn't positive that she would change her mind, even if she knew whom she was currently cursing at.

But, as I'm sure you can tell by now, I have a hard time resisting temptation. And there's something irresistible about poking an angry animal with a big stick. Plus, the concept of her feeling me up seemed to really strike a nerve, for reasons I'm sure you can guess.

I squirmed until I was on my back, laying on my hands. Uncomfortable, yes, but it afforded me a pretty good view of my raging victim.

"What's tha' matta', girly Elf? Mad dat I caught ya molestin' me?"

She sputtered, her face growing a darker shade of lavender as her blush intensified, "I would never do such a thing!"

"Nah, maybe not. But now ya tinkin' a me naked, aren't ya?"

I laughed again. She screamed again. I got a boot to the ribs again. It was good times.

The ten minute coughing stream I suffered after the fact was not, actually, a good time, though. I could feel my ribs rattled beneath my skin with each push of air into my lungs, and the pain made me growl, which caused more coughing. I actually rolled back onto my side, curling in on myself; an instinctual reaction of protection. When I finally calmed the fit down, wheezing to myself, I heard her snort.

"That serves you right."

I chuckled a little, letting my eye dropped close to conserve my energy, "Maybe. Suffocatin' from a punctured lung I ain't appreciatin', though."

I'll admit, by that point, I was feeling pretty exhausted. My injuries felt like they were festering, and though I fully endorse the fact that I brought it on myself, her retaliations to my teasing weren't helping my situation any. Exhaustion coupled with the whole idiocy of the situation made me kind of sullen. My mood must have projected well, because she was silent for a time, letting me recuperate.

"Dare I ask where it was you received your injuries, Troll?"

I opened my eye a crack, watching her through my eyelashes. She was sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, turning the spider on its spit. She was being very careful not to look my way.

"Would ya believe me if I told ya?"

She snorted again, "No, probably not."

"Den I prolly got thrown from mah' mount and dropped in a ditch. Den a cranky girly Elf prolly decided ta treat me like bouncin' ball, even though I didn' do nuthin' to her."

Ok, sure, I sounded bitter. Wouldn't you, though?

"There is no need to chastise me, Troll. I have only done what was necessary to ensure my continued safety."

That time, I was able to snort, "Ya hafta beat and tie an already injured person? Damn, mon, I could barely walk when ya found me. Now I know I can't. Mah feet be sleepin'." I wiggled my toes at her, grinning as I did, and I was afforded that little smirk she seemed to have developed over the years.

Before, when I knew her for that one single night, she had smiled fully and freely. I found that I missed that freedom in her.

"Can you not take this seriously? You are in a very precarious position, you know."

"Oh, I knows. I be tied, remember? Kinda hard ta forget."

She shook her head, and returned her attention to the spider over the fire. It seemed that it was an unspoken agreement between us that our moment had passed, that whatever connection we were building was to be halted. She didn't become nasty again, but she wasn't friendly, either. She didn't even seem all that curious about me, which was kind of bothersome. If I were in her shoes, I would have been spilling over with questions.

I guess, somewhere, at some point, I must have fallen asleep, because before I knew it, I was woken up by that horrible, uncomfortable feeling of stabbing pins when someone pokes a sleeping limb. I gasped and stared wide-eyed at her, pulling the offended foot away from her poking boot.

"Wake up. We need to sit you up so you can eat properly."

I stared at her, but let her shift me around. She was careful of my injuries, for which I was obscenely thankful. Of course, again, I just couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"Why you feedin' me? Aintcha' jus' gonna hand me ovah?"

She shrugged as she knelt down next to me, a small plate of chopped spider meat in her hand, "I still intend to, yes, but I see no harm in filling your belly while we wait. Besides, I get the feeling that if I were to eat without sharing, you would simply whine until I went insane."

I grinned at her, she rolled her eyes, then offered me a fork skewered piece of meat.

The meal was dry, the meat having been overcooked and not spiced nearly enough, but it was sustenance. I chewed thoughtfully, piece after piece, thinking over the odd parallels in the situation.

"So ya not even curious about how I can speak da language, Elf?"

The fork halted in mid-air for a brief second, then continued on its path to my mouth, "I did wonder, though it is no great leap of logic to think that perhaps your faction is now teaching Common to its soldiers for spying purposes."

I laughed around a mouthful of meat, and swallowed it down, "Dat's a good one. Has da merit. I'll pass dat on later. But actually, I taught mahself."

That surprised her. She set the fork down, my meal only half finished, and leaned in closer to stare at my face, "You taught yourself? How? Where did you find texts to learn from? Surely you required help?"

Now there. That right there. That was the girl I had known. Her eyes were huge, glowing against the dimness in the fog. Her lips slightly parted, her brow relaxed so the skin of her face was smooth and beautiful. Her smell had hardly changed at all, the only difference being the new scents lingering around her natural odor. The leather of her body suit, the oil from her gun, the spiked tang of sulfur and gunpowder. There was the smell of sweat, as though she had not had a chance yet to bathe, but I found it more delightful than freshly cleaned and powdered skin. Most of the races, including those in the Horde, had forgotten what it was to go without the perfumed water, to live freely without concern. There was nothing more beautiful than one's own natural scent, the scent that defined them, made them who they were. A man could get lost in her smell.

"Ya, I needed some help. But afta' I got da basics down, it was a breeze, mon."

She moved in a little closer, setting the plate aside. She was close enough now that I could feel her breath on my face, the warmth making little tingles along my cheeks, "Can you speak it fluently? I mean... is it like a second nature to you now? You don't have to consider what it is you are trying to say before you speak?"

Her voice had lowered in pitch, becoming soft, nearly a whisper. I don't know why she did, but I saw no reason not to accommodate the changing mood.

"Nah, mon. I still gotta 'tink about it; specially if ma thoughts be _complicated_." I slowly lowered my gaze, down from her eyes to her mouth, then back to her eyes again. The corner of her mouth twitched, so I knew she caught the underlying meaning. She showed no outer disgust as she had earlier, and my ribs cheered in relief.

Her brow quirked up, though, and her smirk started to grow, "Are all Trolls insatiable flirts, or is it just you?"

I grinned at her, liking where the game was headed, "Naw, mon. Bein' a Troll aint got nothin' ta do wit' it. I jus' like bein' tied up. Mah jailer bein' in skin tight leather ain't a bad perk, neithah'."

Thankfully, she laughed at my joke, shaking her head. And she smiled, ear to ear, her white little teeth showing, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She moved back, sitting on her heels, and picked up the plate again, offering me another bite of my dinner, "You are insatiable. I'm convinced, now."

"Ya don't seem ta mind."

She hummed a little, skewering another piece of meat, "To be honest with you, I don't have anything against Trolls personally. I find your kind to be fascinating."

I quirked a brow, chewing thoughtfully, "Oh? Is dat why ya haven't killed me?"

That stopped her. Her smile fled, and her eyes burned a hole through the ground, "I have my reasons."

"Oh? So it's not jus' because ya 'tink I'm cute?"

Unfortunately, my jesting didn't sit well with her that time. I mentally kicked myself when she looked back to my face, a strange pain showing in her gold eyes, "I owe a debt to one of your kind; a quest that will most likely never be fulfilled."

"So ya pay us back by sendin' me ta slaughter? Funny way a repayin' dis Troll ya knew."

She stiffened, her spine going straight, her nose tilting in the air just slightly, "I am not the one who will kill you."

"Even if ya ain't da one, ya still responsible. Ya handin' me over ta dem. It's still murder, mon."

She sneered and stood, taking the remainders of my dinner with her, and tossed the last few pieces into the coals of the campfire, "I do not need you telling me what is right and wrong. I know my way."

While she stood with her back to me I shifted, twisted my hands in their bindings, "Ya know yer way? Funny, Elf. Seems ta me ya be walkin' blind."

"You are in no place to lecture me. My personal dogma is none of your business."

She could not see me, she did not notice me moving, and could not catch the leer that twisted my lips. It was to my great satisfaction that she gasped, frozen in a strange panic when my arm wrapped around her middle, trapping her arms to her sides. My other arm came up, the spring loaded dagger, hidden beneath my bracer fully extended, the serrated edge pressing against her slender little neck.

I pressed my cheek against her hair, trying hard not to put my full weight on her despite the throbbing in my bones, the blood seeping from freshly opened wounds. I could smell the infection, small still though it was, but I did not want to lose advantage here. To show further weakness would be my downfall, and she would assuredly take her chance should I give her a single inch.

"How- You-"

I breathed heavily against her ear, satisfied to feel a shiver race up her spine, "I guess ya didn't molest me well enough, Elf. We Rogues are tricky when we need ta be."

"You bastard. You unbelievable-"

"Shush now, Elf. We's gonna have a good time, you and me."

I took a half a step back, and with what strength I had left, I repaid her in kind. She was out cold before she even hit the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

I'll be the first to admit that what I did was in poor form. I'm a Rogue, though. What else do you expect? Not to mention that I'm a Troll, and I do have my pride. The Elf had it coming to her; that and more, so be thankful I didn't just stab her in the spine and wander off into the wilderness. I kept her alive, though a little worse for wear.

Getting her to the cave was a chore, one that cost me more blood and exhaustion. I was lucky to find the hollowed out space of rock, as the fog still had not lifted. It was somewhat damp, but comfortably cool, the floor smooth from animal feet and various travelers using it for a place of rest over night. The mouth overlooked a small scrap of land, which lead to the cliff side by the ocean. The sound of water echoed against the walls, though at a manageable pitch, so resting there was no struggle.

I had no moment for rest, though. I had an Elf to take care of.

Thankfully, she had not stirred during the long, strenuous walk to the cave. Well, I walked. She was dragged. I tried to feel sympathetic for her, each time her head accidentally bumped into upturned rocks, for the grass stains on her leather armor, for the leaves and dirt catching in her hair. She would be angry and miserable when she woke up, but I couldn't help but smirk when I looked over at her sleeping body.

She looked like she had been tossed out of a moving wagon into a swamp. It was hilarious.

Despite the amusement, I tried hard to concentrate on what needed to be done. I had managed to salvage some of the rope she had used to bind me, and paid her back in turn. Her ankles were tied together, the excess length wrapped and knotted around a rock pillar near the left side of the cave. Her hands were behind her back, just as mine had been, those too attached to the pillar. Unlike her, I checked every inch and spare place she could have hidden a weapon. I had no desire to repeat the events I had already suffered through.

With her taken care of, resting comfortably on her side, snoring the day away, I started digging through her backpack for something to help myself. I nearly laughed out loud when I found the store of Mageweave bandages.

The task of cleaning and dressing my wounds was aggravating. The infection was easy to take care of, but the stinging pain was no great party. By the time I had finished, my torso looked mummified, I realized I would need to repair or replace my chest piece, and I needed and whole new pair of boots. My undershirt was torn to indecency, soaked in blood and felt rather sticky. Not at all pleasant. I shrugged it on anyway, and trimmed the ripped legs of my pants to reasonably long shorts.

Though the bindings were uncomfortable, the fabric making my wounds itch, I figured it was a good enough job for now. I took out the Elf's bedroll and made myself a somewhat acceptable bed. And though I knew I should have stayed awake, kept watch, I let myself drift off into sleep.

I woke up to an artfully kicked rock to the forehead. I snarled, pushing myself up on one arm to see the Elf still laying on her side, a look of murderous rage in her eyes. There were other stones littered around me, by my body, and I realized she had been trying to get my attention for some time. The rock to my face had been a lucky shot.

I yawned, smacking my lips and shot her a lazy look, "Ya look comfy, mon. Sleep good?"

She growled at me, and squirmed in her bindings. It made me grin.

"Ya find my skills with da rope be better den yours, Elf. No use strugglin'. Ya wont be getting' out."

"Release me, you foul cretin!"

"Mmm, naw, I don't 'tink so." I shifted to my knees, careful of my ribs, and made it to my feet. From there I stalked over to her, squatting down to pet back her hair. She jerked her face away, but I did it anyway, tucking strands behind her ear, "I's just givin' as good as I got. Be glad I don' kick ya where ya hurt da worst. Broken ribs be a tricky wound, Elf."

She closed her eyes, barely concealing the fact that she was grinding her teeth, "It was not my intention to make your injuries worse."

"Naw, but ya did nothin' to help em, either. Seems yer debts to me kind be growin'."

She looked up at me then, ignoring my fingertips that still rested against her cheek, "I owe you and your kind nothing. I owe only one Troll, one I will likely never see again."

I moved my fingers over her hair again, dragging them down over the weave of her hair and mine, touching the beads, the skull that I had decorated myself. I could still recall the smell of freshly mixed paint. The contrast between the textures of our hair was startling, but I found their blending together somewhat satisfying.

I returned my gaze to hers, "Ya got dis from him?" I asked, picking up the braided strand to hold it before her. Her eyes grew wide, then closed, a frown marring her pretty face. She did not answer me.

I left her alone for a while, instead focusing on cleaning my wounds and re-wrapping my bandages. It was no easy task, my ribs screaming every time I had to twist my arms around for the Mageweave. I was acutely aware of the Elf's eyes on me while I worked.

"You need a healer." she whispered after a long time, though the sound seemed to echo against the stone walls like a loud horn. I paused in my work for a single beat, then resumed without answering her.

"If you found the bandages, then you must have seen the potions. Why not use one of those instead?"

I tucked the end of the bandage into the wrap, adjusting the semi-loose binding as carefully as I could, "I be a Rogue, mon, but I ain't a thief. Bandages be easy ta make. Potions, not so much."

She seemed to consider this, turning the logic around in her mind. When she spoke again it was soft, timid, and held a hint of fear, "Why am I still alive?"

I glanced over my shoulder, examined the strained look on her face. Her lip was trembling again. Her brows were drawn together. I had seen her wear that look once before; she had been running across the Barrens at night, screaming for help to anyone who could hear her.

"Why ya let me live?"

I really didn't expect her to answer. After everything both of us had gone through that day, I was pretty fortunate that neither of us was dead, let alone on speaking terms with the other. But she _did _answer, and it was the last thing I ever expected to hear from her.

"You remind me of... him. The Troll I knew from before."

So far in my story, I've tried very hard not to sound like a sappy idiot. I've been honest about what went through my head, but I refused to sugar coat it, even if it would make a pretty good ballad. But that's just not the way things really were. It's not the way it happened, it wasn't what I was feeling. But I'll tell you now, that at that moment, something opened up inside my chest and spread to my limbs.

I'm pretty sure it was hope.

"I do? How?"

"Well..." she licked her lips, chewing on the bottom one in thought. I didn't recall her having that habit, but I found it oddly sexy, "I can't really explain it, I suppose. More like a feeling I get when you look at me. It's like... you're looking through me, into me, seeing something I don't even realize is there. He... he would look at me like that."

I snorted, rolled my eye, though inwardly I was cheering, "Maybe dat jus' be da way da Trolls look atchu'."

She squirmed a little, managed to inch herself forward with her shoulder and hip, "No, no that's not it. I_ know _it isn't." her eyes were growing a little wider as she examined my face, scooted forward another inch or two – her lead rope was starting to reach its limit - "Are you kin to him? Do you know who I am speaking of?"

I scoffed, looking away, "Ya 'tink you be da only Elf ta meet a Troll? Coulda' been hundreds a encounters."

"Yes, but," the sound of leather sliding against polished stone floor, "Not every Troll has this hair color. It's rather rare from what I understand."

Ok, yes, I realize how close she was at that point to figuring out who I was. You might be asking yourself why it was I didn't just outright tell her 'yeah, I be him'... Well, I don't really have answer for that. The only thing I can say for myself was that I was hurt still, exhausted, and a little bit angry that it had taken her so long to even begin figuring everything out. She would probably never forgive me for the whole situation, and I needed more time to think things through myself – particularly how to get out of being shot between the eyes when she finally_ did _put all the pieces together.

So, I used what little I knew about her against her.

Reaching over, I picked up the braid in her hair again, holding the small skull between my thumb and first finger. I leaned close to her face, scant inches away from her own.

"Do ya know what dis means, Elf?"

She swallowed audibly, "No?"

Apparently she had not studied as thoroughly as I had over the past decade, "Dis be a symbol a' ownership, little Elf. A Troll ties dis in da hair a da woman he rightfully owns. Ya be marked as _property_, girly. No Troll messes wit' ya because we knows ya be his trading commodity. Messin' wit' ya would be a big sign a' disrespect. Would even git' us killed."

Her eyes had grown huge as I told her the story, explained what my gift had meant. It pained me to lie to her so cruelly, but I was angry, remember? She had cut me deeply earlier by not recognizing me for who I was, and I only wanted to give as good as I had gotten.

When she did not answer, I drove my daggers home, "If ya found 'im, he would tie ya like a sow and hand ya off ta anyone he pleased; afta' he's had his fill of ya again. Did he rape ya, Elf? Or did ya go willingly? Funny, though... Can't imagine no self respectin' Elf evah' welcomin' a Troll between her legs."

The fear she had been trying so hard to contain earlier erupted in the form of tears, thick and heavy, spilling out

her tightly shut eyes. A choked sob made its way past her mouth, and she rolled over and away from me, curling her knees up to her chest. I watched her hands flex in their bindings; she wanted very much to hold herself, the only kind of comfort she would be able to find.

I release the braid, tossing it back over her shoulder, and made my way back over to the bedroll. As I lay down to rest, I listened intently to her sobbing on the other side of the cave. The sound of it was painful, but I forced myself to sleep, anyway.

When I woke up next, the sun was rising on a new morning. There was still a fog around the world, but it was much thinner than the day before. Tall grass could be seen peeking out of the mass of it, and the trees and mountains in the distance were much more visible. I couldn't imagine it staying that way for too many hours, and the idea of finally getting away from that stupid place gave me renewed energy.

As I stood at the mouth of the cave, watching the ocean sway miles into the horizon, I heard the Elf shifting behind me. The sound of a loud, strained yawn made my ears twitch, but I refused to look at her at first. Seeing her, tied and pitiful when I had first woken up had been almost too much to bear.

"Excuse me."

I sighed. Of course, silence would have been too much to hope for.

"I don't know if you care at all, but I have a terrible itch in my eyes. And I have to go to attend to baser needs, if you understand what I mean."

I smirked, shaking my head slightly before heading back into the cave to squat next to her. She looked like absolute Hell – her eyes were puffy from crying, ringed by dark circles from fitful sleep. Her hair was a tangled mess, and even through the thick leather of her body suit I could see that her muscles were tense. When I eventually_ did _cut her lose, she'd be almost too sore to even lift a sword. I took that as a damn good sign.

"If I loose ya, ya gonna try an' shoot mah skull open?"

She sighed, closing her eyes, "No, I will not try to kill you. I have no reason to, and you're currently in a better fighting shape than I am anyway. It would not be worth to effort."

"Aw, yous a sweet Elf."

"I try, thank you. Could you?" she wiggled her feet, and I grinned at her. Even if the mood was caused by a night of pain, her smart-ass attitude was oddly fun. I could get used to her like that.

Instead of going for her feet, I leaned over her body, working on the knots I had tied around her wrists. The proximity had her hip pressing into my torso, and I was again thrilled to feel her stiffen from the contact. But aside from that she didn't move away from me. I made her nervous, but not enough to refuse to touch me. As such, I lingered over her, being extremely slow about releasing her hands. The skin of them was calloused from handing a rifle and sword, but still long and slender like I remembered. Her nails were no longer polished and smooth, but rather rough and worn down to the fingertips, just as a good fighters should be. She no longer had room for impracticalities and vanity, as she had all those years ago, and I found the woman here laying beneath me appealing in a different way than the girl had been.

I leaned back, showing her the rope that was around her wrists, and she began to shift her arms forward, but I reached out instead, holding her shoulders to stop her.

"Slow, little Elf. Ya arms gonna be sore as Hell an' ya could tear da muscles if ya not careful."

She nodded and shifted ever so slightly, enough for me to place a hand at her back, to help her into a sitting position. From there my hands slid to her upper arm, down to her forearm and wrist, and together, we eased first one arm around to her lap, then the other. I watched her cheeks twitch, trying to hide a wince of pain here and there, but all in all she took the adjustment rather well. With that finished, I moved down to her ankles and began to work on the ropes there.

She chuckled behind me, "You know, I'm glad I did not have the intention of harming you once released. I don't think I could manage to hold myself up, let alone a weapon right now."

The rope was untied, and carefully I held one of her booted feet, rotating the ankle as gently as I could, trying to stimulate blood flow, "Den I be da luckiest Troll on da planet, mon." I tilted her a look, smirking, "Not many can sneak up on me."

She laughed, the sound soft and light, "Well, it's not as though you made it difficult. Ah! That hurt, a bit."

"I know mon, sorry. Try ta bear wit' it."

Slowly I drew my fingers up, massaging the muscles of her legs, feeling the knots and cramps loosen under my fingertips. Once reaching her knee, I moved to the other leg, offering it the same treatment. As I rounded the kneecap, I glanced up at her, to see her watching me intently, her eyes half lidded in thought. I moved my fingers up another inch or so, to the top of her thigh, and she did not protest. So I began to massage her thighs, the pace easy and as non-threatening as I could make it. Despite the fact that I had started out with noble intentions, the feel of her well muscles legs, the curves of her beneath my hands were having a very un-noble affect on me. I inwardly growled as my stomach began to burn, tighten, unwanted memories flashing in my brain of her writhing beneath me, clawing my back to ribbons, moaning nonsense into my ear. Begging me to give her more.

By the time my traitorous brain had finished its cruel tirade, my fingers had nearly reached her hips. I stilled myself, chancing another look at her, and I swear my heart completely froze for a moment.

She was chewing on her lower lip again, but there was a heavy flush to her cheeks, the golden glow in her eyes a little warmer than it had been before. She was bracing herself upright with her hands on the floor, and the fingers were curled into tight fists. Her breasts were rising and falling at a rapid rate; her breath panting out of her like she had run a footrace. I had moved so close to her I was nearly sitting between her open knees. I could practically _smell _the arousal on her.

I coughed, easing away, "Didja' need help getting' outside?"

My discomfort must have spread. Her blush grew hotter, and she looked away, "No, I do not believe so. But, um..." she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again, "I may.. require some assistance in unlacing my armor."

Of course she did. Because the Gods have a cruel sense of humor.

As gently as I could, I eased her up to her feet. She swayed immediately, and I leaned down as far as I could for her to put her arm across my back for balance. From what I could see, her armor had laces in four different places: There were laces on the sides, reaching from her armpits to her hips, lacing on the back that went from the top of the neckline down to her tail bone, and lacing in the front which, for the most evil and cruel reasons imaginable, actually reached down between her legs, hidden in the fold of her thighs.

I closed my eye, mentally groaning. Naturally.

The laces on the sides were an easy issue, and the lacing on her back was permanently sewn in for muscle support. And when I reached toward her chest to begin unlacing her front, she made no move to protest or stop me. Her breath quickened a touch, but she did not stiffen or show discomfort in my closeness. The only thing that changed was that her smell grew thicker, headier, and it made me dizzy.

The laces were much tighter than I had anticipated. As I worked them loose, I could practically hear her bones and muscles creaking, felt her body relax a little further against mine. My fingertips brushed newly exposed skin, warm and soft and absolutely flawless. Down they went, across her abdomen, her belly, just below her navel. And still the laces ran, and I admit that as I slid my hand further down, it was shivering with the thought.

Then, I met irresistible heat and want. I heard her gasp above me, and I could not help it anymore.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had her backed up against the cave wall, was lifting her thighs up around my hips and grinding myself against her. She moaned, long and loud as my hardness drove against her heat, her hands going up to grip my tusks, her fingers slipping on the silver rings that had been fitted there.

Using her body as a balance, one hand holding up her knee, I began working on the laces of her armor again. Suddenly the strings were too slippery, tricky, running from my fingers like flies in the air. They did not relent for some time, and I was seriously considering just tearing them out when they finally gave up and let me through. The Elf before me moaned again, her hand moving down to grip my wrist.

"You.." she panted, giving my arm a squeeze, "You should not. You are hurt."

Oh. Right. Broken ribs.

I didn't answer her, only stared, asking her silently what she wanted to do then. There was no denying the combustion there between our bodies, and I promised her without words that somehow, some way, there would be fruition in this. I wouldn't allow it any other way. I had thought of her, wanted her again for too long to let it just stop.

She pushed at my chest, and carefully I set her feet back on the ground. She continued to push, and I walked backwards, my heels eventually meeting the edge of her bedroll. I lay down on it, watching as she eased her armor off as best she could, sore, stiff muscles hindering her work. Regardless of the pain on her face, I found the view to be quite enjoyable, and soon, she was standing before me, completely nude.

I had never thought to see that body again, that beautiful, smooth, sleek, well muscled body. What I did not expect, though I really should have, was the proof of her profession.

What was once perfect and untouched was now a map of stories and battles. Sword scars, old knife wounds, pocks from a scatter-shot,

burn marks from backfired guns. The marks did not mar her beauty in the least, but rather brought a whole new perspective to it. She was no longer the spoiled, pampered Night Elf I had known before. Standing in front of me was a woman, grown and strong and sure of herself.

And at that moment, her blood was rushing with want. Her want of me.

Then she was climbing over me, straddling my hips and looming over my face as I lent back on my elbows. We did not touch each other, but rather skirted our faces around one another. Our cheeks brushed, our foreheads. Her mouth barely kissed against my ear lobe, the two gold hoops that I had had since childhood. She paused for a moment there, her lower lip dragging against the largest of the two, as though considering. I did not want her to think. I didn't want her to consider a damn thing. I just wanted her to feel, to feel me, to feel me feeling her, and just let the whole damn thing run its course.

But as she began to draw back, I felt the muscles in her arms quiver, shake, and suddenly they both gave out and I had a chestful of limp, worthless Elf on top of me. Her weight was minimal, but since it was unexpected and I really wasn't prepared to bear her on my broken bones, we both hit the ground, crying out as wounds and aches screamed back into life.

"I'm sorry." she groaned, trying so hard to maneuver herself upright again. Her squirming was both a joy and uncomfortable, elbows digging into my ribs, so I gripped her upper arms and held her still.

I sighed, the breath pushing back strands of her hair, "Dis not be right, Elf. Not now, anyways."

She huffed in response, nodding, "You are right. I apologize. Just.. let me... I will go attend to my needs."

Quicker than I thought was possible, and she probably did some damage to her leg muscles in the process, she stood and rushed out the cave door, disappearing around the corner. I lay back, staring up at the ceiling, pondering the concept of the little Elf running around the wilderness naked and sore, while I lay in a cave, hard and ready with nowhere to go.

Really, our misery was laughable.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few hours were a combination of frustration and amusement. The Elf had returned to the cave, pulling her armor back on as quickly as her sore muscles would allow. She tried as hard as she could not to stare at me, my trousers barely keeping my persistent arousal a secret. I tried to take it all in stride and ignore the burn between my legs when I was finally able to settle my blood. The sight of her squirming into her boots, trying to right her hair and avoid looking at me was a little unnerving, though.

Eventually, through no spoken agreement, we found ourselves back on the road, she atop her giant cat of a mount, me limping along beside them, one hand resting on the great beast's shoulder. The Elf lacked the strength in her muscles to properly guide him, so it fell to me to give gentle pushes when we needed to turn corners. The big feline wasn't too keen on the idea of traveling with me, but after a few harsh words from his Mistress, he conceded to a temporary truce. He reminded me of my place as often as he could get away with through a rough growl, or a quick snap at my fingertips. So it wasn't smooth sailing, but I managed.

Eventually, the path started to lead down the cliff face, toward the shore below. We still could not see it clearly, the fog being thicker there, rolling off the ocean waves, but I knew instantly what would meet us at the bottom. The fact that I had not immediately recognized the area was a serious blow to my ego, but I decided to keep silent about that for the time being. It would do no good to lose face even more than I already had.

"Steep rocks ahead, mon. Best go on foot."

The Elf looked down at me, her brows lifting in surprise, but she did as she was told. Silently, I helped her down from the back of her mount, and with a few soft words, she dismissed the great beast. We watched him lumber back up the path toward the top of the cliff, and disappear into the mist. We stared at the space he had once occupied, seeming to vanish like a specter, and eventually realized that my arms were still around her tiny little waist.

She cleared her throat, and we parted, both slightly embarrassed. Together, walking side by side, we made our way to the bottom.

Spongy, almost mossy grass met my bare feet, wiggled between my toes, and I sighed in relief. The ocean was to my left, spraying softly against my exposed shoulder and arm, and unwittingly, I found my hand seeking hers. She did not stiffen, did not pull away, instead letting me envelope her tiny digits in my palm.

"The Overlook Cliffs." she said, the fog around us making the noise a whisper, a tiny echo in a deep, empty vastness. I nodded, though I was sure she did not see.

"Near Revantusk. Ya be goin' on, Elf?"

Her breath was small, another phantom sound in my ears, "No, this is where I wanted to be. I came for my pet."

I wanted to ask about that, but decided to keep my questions unsaid. It was obvious she was there for one of the giant turtles that populated the shore. To ask her would be just stupid, would make ime/i sound stupid. Internally, I admitted that to even want to ask the question was just a mask; a way to delay our parting, to keep her talking, to keep reminding myself that despite the dream like state this fog had thrown us into, she was indeed real. I gave her hand a slight squeeze, which she returned.

Soon, I found myself looking down at her, most of her lower body hidden by the mist.

"Elf, der be sumthin' I needs ta' tell ya."

She tilted her face up, the glow in her eyes barely strong enough to penetrate the wall of thick water between us. Her lips parted slightly, the lower looking full and lush and I could not help myself as I reached up, brushing it with my thumb. All the years of being separate from her, though our time together had been for only a single night all seemed to come crashing down on me then. I did not want to see her go, did not want to walk away from her toward the village. I needed to, I knew; I had injuries that needed proper care, and I needed to send word to my Guild Master about the mishap on the road and see about possibly taking a loan out from the Guild Vault to replace the supplies I had lost.

There were hundreds of reasons to turn, to walk away from her, but my legs would not obey my commands. Instead, they moved forward, closer to her little body. My own body tensed hard, the want of her coming to the forefront once again, despite how hard I tried to stamp it down. Then was not the time to give into my baser need for her.

"What is it?" she asked, though I had to read her lips to catch even three words. Her voice had gone so soft, wispy and light. I closed my eye, no longer able to stand looking at her, and rested my forehead against hers.

Both my hands went up to her face, cupping her jaw, my fingers tangling in her hair. She gripped my wrists loosely, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"I be sorry. Fo'give da Atal fo everytin'."

I tilted slowly, and careful of my tusks, kissed her as softly as I could manage. When I pulled away, I saw that despite the fact that she had enjoyed the kiss, her brows were drawn in confusion, her eyes still closed.

"Atal..." my name sounded odd on her lips, her tongue forming around the foreign sound, "If you are speaking of the lower moments of our encounter these past two days, I hardly think there is a need to apologize. I would say, in the grand scheme of things, that we are about even."

I smiled, though she could not see it, and leaned forward again, kissing the little wrinkle between her eye brows. They relaxed immediately, her body moving in closer to mine. She could really be so simple at times.

"Ya really don't know, do ya?" I asked, examining her upturned face. When she only opened her eyes, staring up at me in confusion, I felt a knot inside my stomach loosen.

"Don't know what? What is it you are dancing around?"

I kissed her between the eyes again, moving down to her nose, her cheek and chin. Her hand flexed over my wrists with every small touch of lips to skin, and eventually I made my way back to her mouth, finding it soft and ready for me.

"Why ya be lettin' a Troll ya don't know kiss all over ya, Elf?"

The question was unexpected, obviously, but she slid into like a champion bullshitter.

"Because this particular Troll is hung like a Kodo."

I laughed, the noise carrying surprisingly far. In the distance, one of the large turtles that roamed the shore squawked in response, and I chose not to take offense to that.

Of course, I wasn't prepared for her to push her earlier question.

"Why are you dancing, Atal?" she repeated. I turned to look toward the South, my heart starting to hammer in my chest.

Abruptly I turned to her again, pressing my mouth to hers with a fierceness she had not expected. She stumbled, and I gripped her lower back to keep her standing, pressing her into my body as intimately as two creatures could be. Her mouth still tasted of the pieces of sweet bread she had eaten on the road.

When I pulled away I spoke quickly, before she could ask me again.

"I be goin' to tha village. Should be back in 'bout two or three days. If ya still here, I come find ya, and answer ya questions."

Before she could protest, open her eyes or even breathe, I stepped into the fog, letting the shadows cover me and hide my presence from all who cared to look. I moved slowly away, sighing internally when I heard my name, spoken so softly, with so much confusion, it almost made me turn and go back to her.

Forcing my feet forward, I willed myself toward Revantusk.

"Ya be lucky, mon. Ya didn't puncture yo lungs!"

I grunted as the healer synched the fresh bandages around my middle, a little tighter than was necessary in my opinion. He did not seem to notice my discomfort, though, and continued on to my various cuts and marks. They had healed up for the most part on their own, though a few of the deeper ones needed to be reopened and properly cleaned. I winced silently as he did so, clean fingers picking scabs and rubbing stinging ointment into the wounds. These too were wrapped in fresh cloth, loser than the wrap about my ribs.

"Ya need ta stay put for at least a day, ta let the bones start ta set. I can do da healin' on dem tomorrow for ya."

I nodded, shrugging a new shirt over my shoulders. It was, thankfully, a kind that did not require going over my head, instead lacing in the front, letting me leave it open to let the wounds breath. The Healer moved around his hut, putting his supplies away, dropping his utensils in a clay basin to soak for later sterilization. Once he was done cleaning up, he directed me toward the Inn with a gentle pat on the shoulder, careful of the freshly stitched cut.

The village of Revantusk was much the same as it had been over the past few years. I had not had much cause to visit, focusing more on missions near Durotar, but I found it wasn't all that bad. I had a cousin that liked to frequent the area, as the fishing was particularly fine, but it was currently out of season. I would find no family relations there that time of year. The thought was oddly comforting, to tell the truth. It was not as though my cousin and I were not on good terms – no, that was definitely not the case. I just felt the need to be alone.

Depression was never a good thing in a Troll. Bordem was worse. And I had a feeling that I would suffer both the longer I stayed in the village.

But, naturally, not all my hunches worked out. As I neared the Inn, I heard a telltale commotion inside; one that promised I was walking into what sounded like a bar fight. I sighed, shaking my head, wondering what fool was causing trouble inside, and hoping that I would not become an unwitting victim in the whole mess. The last time I had... My hand went up automatically to the patch over what was once my right eye, and I shuddered. _That _was certainly no happy story.

Despite my track record with bar fights, I made my way through the door, and felt my veins freeze.

Crouched behind and overturned table was a Troll female and an Orc woman. The Troll in question was in the process of throwing a half full tankard across the room at a pair of terrified looking Undead. The two being assaulted looked to be warriors, their armor showing that they themselves were not entirely versed in the ways of the world just yet. The Troll was laughing as the tankard smashed against the wall, inches from one of the Forsaken's heads. The Orc was cursing at her companion, her blue eyes shining in absolute rage and horror.

It was, of course, just my luck.

Looking around me, I spied another tankard, this one blessedly empty, and I tossed it toward the guilty pair. It wasn't a hard throw, the cup bouncing against the floor once before it knocked into the Orc's foot. She looked away from her companion, her fierce eyes locking on mine and burning into my gut. But the anger faded almost immediately when she saw me. Her hand gripped the shoulder of her still laughing friend.

"Jazlok! Jazlok, you idiot, pay attention!"

The Troll ignored her friend, looking around for any available debris to throw at the poor, harassed Undead across the room. Finally, the Orc had had enough, and she gripped Jazlok's chin, forcing her to look in my direction.

Red eyes lit up, a wide smile spreading across her face. She looked almost manic, and the thought terrified me.

"Atal, mah' dearest piece a Troll Meat!" she squealed, and quick as a flash, a speed that always frightened me, I found myself with my arms full of ecstatic Troll woman. I tried to keep her away from my ribs, but knew the effort would be useless, and instead returned her embrace. Looking over the top of her head, I nodded to the Orc.

"Noth."

She nodded back, resting her battle ax over her shoulder, "Atal."

"Ya two be causin' trouble?"

Jazlok pulled away, giving me an impudent pout, "I didn' do nuthin'! Dem zombies be startin' it!"

"Not true!" One of the Forsaken yelled at us, apparently getting over his immediate fear of his harassers, "We just asked her a question and she went mad!"

"And I don't appreciate being tossed in with her lot." Noth grumbled, nudging Jazlok with her foot. Jazlok pouted even more, blinking up at me with a strong attempt at innocence.

The problem was, with Jazlok, you could never be sure if she was completely sincere, or just that good at lying. In the five years that I had known her, I had yet to really figure out her motives and behavior. With her, it was best just to stop struggling and follow along for the ride.

"Atal, ya don't 'tink I be doin' anytin' bad, do ya?"

I blinked at her, my expression going blank. If I were to take the bait she so eagerly dangled in front of me, I would end up in a debate over her goodness and purity for at least the next two days, and that was iif/i Noth decided to finally intercede and shut her up. For as long as I had been familiar with those two, Noth seemed to be the only one Jazlok would actually listen to, and even then it wasn't frequent.

Instead of letting the situation perpetuate, I took the next best course of action: Distraction.

"What ya be doin' here, Jaz? Thought you was torturin' da poor souls in Tanaris dis time a year."

The change of subject brought a whole new brightness to her eyes, and ignoring the yelling and grumbling of the other bar patrons, she took my arm and ushered me over to a table that was still surprisingly standing. Practically tossing me into my seat, Noth demurely perching on her own chair to my right, she explained.

Apparently, the fact that I had gone missing for all of two and a half days was big news. The last she had heard, through mutual acquaintance, I had been heading toward the South for reasons unknown, and was due to send word to the Guild Master, which, obviously, never happened. After discovering my disappearance, she had bravely volunteered herself for a mission of required bravery and grit, to track me down in the wilderness of the Eastern Kingdoms and would not stop to even _sleep_ until I was found!

Noth rolled her eyes through the spill of words, and I smirked inwardly. Apparently, bar fights were an acceptable use of her time as well.

"We were jus' on our way out da door to continue da search when _bam_, there ya be!" she chirped happily, reaching forward to pat my cheek. I allowed her to do so, though it would probably have been smarter to keep her at at least a 5 foot distance at all times. Jaz just has that strange affect on me, though. When someone accidentally gouges your eye out, you form a kinship with them.

"So what brings you to Revantusk, then? More of your secret spy games?"

Both Jaz and I shot Noth an annoyed look – the Orc had a habit of stirring it up between the three of us, particularly about our profession. Despite my annoyance at the jab, it at least gave me a feeling of comfortable familiarity. If Noth was taking digs at Rogues, then everything must be alright with the world.

Unfortunately, she actually expected an answer to her question, an answer I wasn't sure how to give. How could I tell my two friends, one of which who was insanely protective of me in the first place, that I had gone running across the world on a tip, a small whisper in the lines of information that I could find a certain Night Elf. Of course, I could lie to them, though that would only get me a knock to the head; aside from being overly protective, Jaz had a habit of seeing through me, then tattling to Noth that I had lied. Noth would do the knocking. Jaz would stand over me with that disappointed Mother look, and I'd feel about Gnome tall.

"Actually," I said, my eye glued to the table top, "I got thrown from mah mount. Had ta' walk 'ere."

"That's it?"

I chanced a glance at the Orc, then to Jazlok, finding their expressions suspicious, though they did not question me further when I confirmed that, yes, that was it. There was really no need to explain to them my capture, escape and almost coital circumstances with the Night Elf. Especially since she was likely still prowling around the shore, looking for a pet that would suit her. At least, that what's I was hoping. If they discovered she was the reason for my dallying, my disappearance, and a small majority of my injuries, she would not live to see the next morning.

Within an hour, the bar had been put to rights. The Undead that had been the unwitting victims of Jazlok's odd sense of fun had slunk away to parts unknown, and the drinks had begun to flow freely. I had a few myself, mindful of my injuries as I did not want my thinning blood to begin flowing again, and we spent most of the evening telling stories and catching up the time lost between us. It had only been a year, but as was usual for them, the tales Jazlok and Noth told me were numerous and held a strong scent of dark humor. Despite all I had been through the past two days, despite all I was going to have to face in the next, I relished the moment of companionship, filing it away for days when I needed a little encouragement.

By the time we started staggering toward our rooms, the moon was already on its way back down toward the horizon. Through another odd coincidence, my room was directly across the hall from Jaz and Noth's, and I watched, smirking and amused, as the former giggled drunkenly, gripping the door jamb as the latter tried in vain to yank her into their room.

"Ataaaaaaaal..." she whined girlishly, "Make her stop! I jus' wanna talk wit' you!"

"You've been talking for hours! It's time to go to bed!" Noth insisted, giving her another tug. Jaz's fingers slipped, but not enough to dislodge her grip.

"Okays, maybes I dun' wanna talk wit' 'im. It be his fault, though! He be lookin' all fine an' tasty and grinnin' an-"

I laughed, cutting off her drunken tirade, "Ya be makin' me blush, mon. Listen' to ya warden. Get some sleep, girly." I stepped forward, easing one of her hands away from the door, and kissed her knuckles, "I be seein' ya lata, I promise. I needs ta rest tonight to see da healer in da mornin', though, so no more fuss."

She pouted at me, but conceded, much to my and Noth's relief. I could hear her whining at the poor Orc even through the shut door, though. Sighing, shaking my head, I made my way into my own room, grateful for the relative quiet. I knew that the noise next door would continue for at least another half an hour as Noth attempted to get a drunken, upset Jaz out of her armor and ready for bed, but after that all would be blessedly silent. With that in mind, I began to prepare for sleep myself, glad for once that I did not have much to take care of with all my supplies gone. My armor had been directly sent from the Healer's hut, and it hung on the rack at the opposite side of the room. My bedding had already been turned down.

Off to the side was an adjacent room, more of a wide closet if you're considering space, and I spied a small, copper bathtub. Recently, the Innkeeper had dipped into his coffers and paid a Goblin Engineer to fit water pipes to all the rooms for the novelty of instant hot water. I was tempted by the idea, knowing that a good, hot soak would do my muscles a world of good. Glancing out the window, I gauged how late it was, and decided that it would definitely do more good than harm. I stepped into the bath closet and twisted the decorative ivory handle, grinning as the pipes rattled and hissed, and steaming water spilled out the spigot.

I made my way back into the room to undress, letting the tub fill. Within minutes I was reclined in the water, sighing heavily as my muscles started to loosen. The tub itself, though a wonderful invention, was not exactly made with Trolls in mind. While it was built in a comfortable recline, a shallow dip for my neck and head near the rim so I could rest my arms up on the edges and tilt my head back, it wasn't exactly long enough for my entire body. My legs dangled over the far end, and to make up for it, I shoved a thick, fluffy towel along the rim to rest the crooks of my knees on. All in all, I was in a comfortable position within minutes. It felt absolutely divine.

For nearly an hour I lay back in the water, a damp cloth over my eyes as I had removed the leather patch, and let the heat ease my aches away. Personally, I blame the strain of the past few days for my lapse in guard.

When I felt the sharp point of my own dagger pressing just below my chin, all I could do was mentally sigh.

"I be sensin' a trend here, mon."


	5. Chapter 5

"Shoosh, Atal," her voice was light, whispered in the shell of my ear, making the hot water around me feel frigid and arctic in comparison, "We don't want the entire Inn coming down on us."

My ears perked then, and I shifted ever so slightly in the tub. The water lapped at my skin, sending goosebumps up to my neck, "Oh? What ya be plannin' den, Elf?"

She snorted, and it made me smile, despite the danger to my throat, "Always the one-track mind with you, Troll. How have you managed to survive intact all these years?"

My fingers twitched, wanting to press against my missing eye, but I thought better of it. Even though she was apparently in an amiable mood, the dagger was still pressed against my skin, and I didn't feel like agitating the possibility of a homicidal action. Besides, I could sense her, feel her slip from behind me, rounding to the side of the tub. Her free hand trailed in her wake, the fingertips brushing ever so gently against my neck and shoulder, the tips of her mostly-blunt nails making my already pebbled skin sting in anticipation. I heard the leather of her armor creaking as she shifted, and from the limited view I had beneath the wash cloth, I could see a perfectly rounded hip shift up onto the rim of the bathtub. I smiled to myself; this could hold promise. I felt her switch hands, the left gripping the dagger, the right resting against the far side of the bath.

Yes... There was more promise in this situation than I could have ever hoped for.

I swallowed, feigning worry, "Well... I guess cuz I so cute?"

She laughed at that, throaty and low, and tapped the flat of the blade against my chin, "Yes, I suppose I'll have to give you that, Atal. In fact..." her voice trailed off, and I felt the heat of her stare raking across my exposed chest, "That's not all I'm going to give you."

I felt her start, her arm stiffen, affected by the sudden grin that spread across my face, "Not if I beetcha' to it." And with a lightning quick snatch and tug, the Elf went sideways into the bath with me, her nose pressed against my lower belly, her legs dangling over the rim. Water sloshed uselessly against the wood floor. I sat a little straighter, pulling the cloth from eyes so I could take in the view.

The Elf pushed herself up; her hand slipped against the sudsy bottom and her head went under again. I laughed loudly, watching as she struggled with getting a grip. She had dropped the dagger somewhere in transition, so both hands were scrambling for purchase. Eventually she just drug her entire body into the bath with me, and she managed to right herself. That long, wavy green hair was plastered to her skull and face like a silken mask, dripping and heavy. She coughed, sputtering, and I pushed the heavy weight of her hair away from her eyes. She was glaring, and I was still laughing.

"You bastard! Now I have to set my leathers so they don't shrink!"

I shook my head at her, still snickering, attempting to slick the hair back on her skull. Her ears were drooping with increased agitation. "Don't make dat face, Elfy. Ya give yaself wrinkles."

She sneered at me, her lips pursing she was so mad, but it only gave me a strange tickle in my chest. Right then, in her indignation, I could see the girl she was. And even though she may not have willed it or planned it to go the way it had, I now had the woman she was in my very lap.

"So why ya come here, girly? Ya wantin' yer head on a pike?"

She huffed and leaned back against the opposite rim of the tub, propping one of her still booted feet up by my shoulder, "Hardly. I _was_ planning on a clever seduction of your oh-so-slick person, but you went and screwed that up. Thank you very much, by the way."

I hummed, and without a concern started unlacing her boots. She did not protest, and soon I had the soggy thing pulled from her foot. I pressed my thumb into the arch of her slender little extremity, and felt her toes curl in appreciation, "Who say ya gots ta be clever ta seduce ole' Atal, eh? It be common knowledge I be an easy one, mon."

She snorted at that, and began work on the front laces of her body suit, "Yes, well, I had figured that part out earlier. Perhaps I just needed a delusional boost to my ego. Goddess knows our last attempt was a complete failure."

I, in turn, was working on the corset lacing down by her knees, tugging on the leather strings impatiently, "I wouldn't call it a failure, mon. Ya left me pretty distracted."

The Elf chuckled, and she started to squirm around. I realized it was because she was trying to pry the wet leather off of her upper body. She was having a hell of a time with it, too, "C'mere, Elfy. We get those leathers taken care of first."

I slipped from the tub first, not at all uncomfortable with the way her bright, gold eyes leered up and down my body. I stretched to my full height; a bit of fan service, I know, but I felt the show was warranted. I took her hand and helped her from the water as well, guiding her into the bedroom where my own armor lay on the rack. I removed it, and together, we stripped her down to nothing. It was rather clinical, the way we moved. Sure, I wont lie to you; I took a blatant look now and again, but her armor was really something special, and as a leather wearer myself, I knew that replacing it would be near to impossible. Besides, I didn't feel like getting bitched at later for wrecking it.

I had just secured the last piece when I noticed a shiver in her arm. Upon further inspection, I saw that she had goosebumps all over her little body; her skin was tight, her nipples hard and pointed outward. I felt sympathy for her – the Hinterlands were naturally chilly due to the high capped cliffs and the coolness of the ocean ways, not to mention the Innkeeper here in the village could hardly be bothered to provide his rooms with suitable heating. Oh, sure, there were hearths in every room, but you had to go out and gather wood for it on your own. Then pay a substantial cleaning fee after you checked out. And lets just say that I have a certain level of laziness in my bones that makes me prefer to use a few extra blankets rather than go chop firewood in the middle of the night.

Wordlessly, I slipped my hand into hers brought her back to the bath closet. She curled her nose when she saw the water, "You can't expect me to get back into that. It's filthy."

"'Course not," I snorted, and reached in to pull the drain plug. The water glugged as the copper basin emptied, taking all the sludge and travel dirt with it. I restarted the tap, splashing handfuls of water along the sides and bottom to flush out an lingering filth, and soon I had the tub filling again. This time I kept the water at a near scalding temperature, sure that she would appreciate the soak. I watched her as she sat on the rim of the tub, trailing her fingertips across the surface. Her skin turned a darker shade of lavender, so I knew the water was plenty hot, but she didn't complain.

There was no awkward movements this time around; my hands slid to her shoulders, down her arms and across her lap. She tilted her face upward, our mouths meeting slowly, finding the best angle to fit comfortably together. We had some issues with my tusks, but eventually an equilibrium was found, and I felt her sigh against my kisses.

I drew away, reaching down to lift her dainty little feet. I swung her legs around the edge of the bath, dipping her small toes in, listening to her gasp from the sudden change in temperature. Slowly I let her grow accustomed to the water, easing her legs in inch by slow inch. She shivered several times, heavy shudders making her whole body move. I, in turn, took to running my palms up and down the tops of her thighs, the sides of her calves in an effort to relax her. I don't know how long it took to get her into the bath, but by the time she did, she looked about ready to melt into a boneless, contended puddle. She rest with her head against the indented slope, submerged all the way up to her chin. I could see her body perfectly, long and lean and flushed beneath the glassy surface of the water.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Her voice was hardly above a mumble, she was so deep into her relaxed, almost sleepy daze. I grinned, and moved to the far end of the bath.

Reaching into the water I grasped her feet again, pulling them up to make room for my much larger body. The water level rose several inches, lapping at the very top of the tub. I rested comfortably on the bottom, and propped her heels up on my shoulders. She smiled, her eyes closed, as I pressed my cheek to the side of her foot, rubbing like a giant cat.

She cracked one eye open, the light inside of them dimmed, her voice a lazy drawl, "So what happened, anyway?" she asked, and I cocked my head in confusion. To clarify, she lifted her other foot, dragging the pad of her big toe from my brow, down to the middle of my cheek where a thin, but deep scar sat, illustrating the loss of my right eye. I smiled, genuinely this time, and nibbled on the foot I still held captive before answering her.

"Was ten years ago. Got a leetle drunk, started pawin' up a woman," I paused, noticing the frown pulling on her lips and it made me laugh, "Trust me, Elfy, I wasn't forcin' her. Ya couldn't force a Troll 'oman if ya try." The words seemed to comfort her, and I felt her relax a bit more; me dragging my fingertips up and down her calf helped too, I'm sure, "We was both pretty tipsy, and da tipsy turned inta' 'er tusk in mah eye."

She winced, making a face, "And the scar?"

I shrugged, gave her toe a nip, "Da Healers hadta cut me open ta clean out da dirt and 'tings. Wasn' all dat bad."

She snorted, "Says you." She shifted then, pulling her foot away from me to dangle her legs over the edge of the bath. I watched her through my good eye, the way her eye lids were drooping, leering at me. She lifted her arms then, dripping and flushed, "Come over here."

With a sly grin, I obliged.

The water felt like silk between us, sloshing over the rim of the tub as I went to her. Her legs hitched up on my hips, wrapping around me as best as the small bath would accommodate. I kissed her again, moving my lips around her mouth, touching the corners, the edges, making them part in soft little breaths. I kissed a slow path toward her neck and ear, flicking the tiny hoop earring in the lobe, breathing hotly into the shell of it, "So when ya figure out who I be?"

The question, I had assumed, would shock her. But no, my Elfy just chuckled, slipping her wet fingers through my hair, nibbling on my jaw, "When I saw your scars. There isn't another set like them in all the world."

I pulled back then, giving her a squinting look, "Ya be checkin' out otha' Troll bodies in mah absence?"

She laughed at me, tracing her fingertips over the swirling designs on my chest and shoulder, "Hardly. I don't think there's a single, self respecting Troll in the whole world that would strip on my command, even for the sake of slaking curiosity," she shot me a pointed look, a grin still tugging the corners of that luscious, tempting mouth, "I thought perhaps the reason was because of your little bullshit story about the possession mark. Other Trolls seem quite agitated by my presence."

I shrugged, reaching up to brush a fingertip across her shoulder where there was still a pale, faint mark of teeth. It was where I had bitten her, all those years ago. It was hardly noticeable, unless you knew what you were looking for, "Da hair ain't no sign o' possession. But it is plain dat it belonged to a Troll. Dey'd steer clear a ya outta respect fo' what one a der own consider an ally." I plucked the weaved braid up off of her shoulder, rolling the handcrafted beads between my fingertips, "So why ya not mad at me?"

She looked at me, thoughtful for a time, turning the answer over in her head. For a minute I thought she wasn't going to answer, but just when I was about to repeat the question, she spoke, "Because it seemed pointless after a while. Not to say I did not take some frustration out on you. Kicking those rocks at your face was a struggle, you know. But in the long run, quite cathartic."

I couldn't help it; I laughed, loudly, and slid down in the tub to rest my cheek against her chest. She chuckled as well, wrapping her arms around me.

"We be a match made in Heaven, Elfy. Ya know dat, right?"

Her fingers slid into my hair, dragging from my neck, upwards, "This is true. No one else in the world would be crazy enough to pursue either of us."

"Not unless dey wanted da headache of a lifetime." I laughed again as she slapped my shoulder indignantly, and I leaned up, kissing the tip of her little snub of a nose, "Whatchoo say we move dis to da bedroom. I gots lots a ways to show ya how I missed ya."

Her eyes flared at the suggestion, her smart-ass smirk turning into something more feral, and she nodded. In true spoiled Night Elf fashion, she waited until I had climbed from the tub and held her arms out, silently expecting me to carry her. I should have laughed. I should have left her there. But no, I was a sucker and thinking with my already half-erect dick, so I did what she wanted.

Naked and dripping wet, I drew her up into my arms, carrying her like a baby or a new bride, and made my way back to the bedroom. The room was chilly, so as quickly as I could I deposited my prize on the bed, nearly stuffing her beneath the blankets. She shivered and scooted toward the wall, inviting me in with her. I very nearly jumped beneath the covers, giddy as a welp, and my mouth immediately fastened to her throat, gnawing playfully. She laughed, pushing me away halfheartedly as we struggled and rolled beneath the sheets.

Our hands began to wander, turning from delightful play into something more intimate. My fingers played along her ribs, down across her hip bones, petting her still damp skin. I marveled at the changes in her, the swelling of her hips and bosom, the way her age had made her fill. Gone was the girlish, lanky limbs, replaced by luscious curves and supple places for me to dig my fingers in. She cooed beneath me, curling and stretching and shifting like a cat in a sunbeam. I think, if it were physically possible, she would have actually started purring, the look in her eyes were so intense.

"Ya be da death a me, Elfy." I hissed at her, pressing open mouthed kisses to her belly and down. She chuckled, the sound deep and soft, her own hands sliding up and down my arms. As I moved, her thighs began to spread, opening to me, and I took a deep breath to steady myself before plunging down.

The taste of her alone was enough to make me dizzy, thick and sharp, rolling across my tongue like fire. I closed my eye, sliding my tongue around her out lips and between, gripping her legs to keep her still when she began to roll her hips toward me. The little mewls and noises she made spurred me on, making my cock twitch to fullness. I spread her with my thumbs then, and pushed my tongue inside. She squealed, her long fingers gripping the bed sheets and her back arched. She wasn't nearly close to cumming for me, so I took to my task with a lazy sort of glee, contented to lick her and tease as long as I possibly could. Before long I switched my tactics, moving my mouth up to her throbbing clit, pushing my thumb into her, barely giving her a taste of what she wanted. The Elf whimpered at me, grinding into the mattress.

"Don't _tease_ me, Atal. We don't have all night!" she pouted, her voice a mix between that of a wanton woman and a petulant child. I pushed my thumb in to the last knuckle, and bit her inner thigh as punishment. She yipped, and I grinned at her.

"Ya keep up da bossy attitude, an' I keep ya here till sunup."

Her hand slid into my hair, and she licked her lips, "Promises, promises."

"Don' tempt me." I growled, and push my thumb in all the way, deeply satisfied when her eye lids fluttered closed, and her breath caught in her throat.

Fucking her like this, with my hands alone, was an experience I hadn't thought to entertain again. Before she had taken to it with a shy sort of zeal, but now, now she exposed herself fully and completely. She opened up to me and drew my finger in, her own hand reaching down to mine, feeling the way I penetrated her. The sensation seemed to fuel her more, and I felt her insides give a shudder, the wetness surrounding my digit increasing a great deal. My mouth latched back onto her, my thumb sliding in and out with slickened ease.

All at once she was cumming for me, sharp jerks of her muscles squeezing around my knuckle, her smell taking over every other sense available to me. Her fingers clenched in my hair, pulling on it, taking strands out as she bit her lip, struggling in vain to keep her cries silent. All the while her hips pushed and rolled, trying to get me to fuck her harder, faster, to draw it out for her. I did the best I could, twisting my hand around so I could press against her upper walls with the tip of my thumb, making her jaw clench tight, wringing sobs and whimpers from her as she struggled so hard to hold onto the sensation.

Then she collapsed, panting like an arena fighter, her lower body giving little twitches, her thighs trembling. I kissed one, softly, darting my tongue out for a quick taste of the sweat that was gathering on her skin. She shuddered from the touch, pulling on my arms, urging me up to her. I slid along her boneless body, dragging the tip of my cock along her exposed cunt, grinning wickedly when she gasped, her hands flexing on my upper arms. I braced myself above her, staring down at her flushed cheeks, her sweat dampened brow, the way her long, curly hair was clinging to her cheeks and forehead. The look on her face was completely open, and all I could see there was an unending amount of want, of pure, raw need. Her limbs trembled, and she pet my face with her fingertips, asking me with animalistic sounds to come to her, to kiss her, to touch and stroke and taste her again.

As soon as our lips brushed, the wood from the room door exploded inward. I jerked away from her, my hands immediately going toward my weapons on the dressing table, when I noticed that there was a foot through my door.

A long, two-towed blue foot. I also noticed that said foot was struggling to pull back out of the hole it had made. There was also bitching and complaining from another person behind the owner of the foot. A distinctly female, Orcish voice.

I groaned, and turned to tell the Elf to move her ass, but I found the bed empty, and the window open. The rack where we had lain out her armor was empty. The only evidence she was even there was a lingering scent of the ocean, and that too was fading away with the cool breeze blowing in.


	6. Chapter 6

"You know you had this coming."

I watched, amused and smirking from my chair, as Jazlok whimpered and whined, her leg spasming each time Noth managed to yank a thick splinter from her companion's foot. The foot in question was swelled, nearly purple in irritation. Blood was trickling down from each puncture, which was quickly wiped with a clean, cool rag. She would be able to walk on it within a day, but I had a feeling her complaints were more from Noth chastising her rather than the actual injuries.

"I heard sumthin', Noth! Was I jus' sposed ta leave him to tha mercy of his captors? _Ouch!_"

Noth grunted, eying the fresh, jagged splinter between her fingertips before tossing it on the bar table and turning her attention back to Jaz's foot, "And just as your darling Atal has said, there was no cause for your timely rescue. He was quite alone in his room, as we both saw. And now not only have you injured yourself, but you've managed to acquire excess fees for repair to the door, all because you didn't want to keep your pants on last night."

I laughed at that, shaking my head, but Jazlok wouldn't let the reprimand sit, "I was _not _ tryin' ta get laid, Noth! I was worried 'bout 'im! _Ouch!_ Do ya have ta do dat every time I – _Owww!_"

Noth grunted again, "Every time you speak? Yes. Yes I do. Besides, as talented as your Atal is, I somehow doubt he would be very affective in his profession if he were to lose _both_ his eyes."

I grinned at that, "Oh, I dunno, Noth. If ya look at it logically, den two eye patches be sexier den one."

Ice blue eyes focused on me, making my grin a little wider, "You're impossible. Both of you."

"Yeah, mon. But ya love us anyway."

"Exactly! _Ow, okay dat is it! No more!_"

Noth sighed, wiping off a fresh trickle of blood, "Good enough. The rest are too small to reach, anyway. They'll push out on their own once your regeneration kicks in."

Jazlok whimpered, pulling her foot up to her chest in a show of flexibility, and chewed on the arch, trying to reach some of the smaller ones with her teeth. Noth wiped her hands on a fresh cloth, then deposited the entire mess in a clay basin that the Innkeeper so thoughtfully (and scathingly) supplied to be disposed of later. She crossed her arms, resting them on the tabletop, and from across the wooden platform, sized me up.

"So what are your plans then, Atal? Heading back to Dalaran?"

I shrugged one shoulder, carefully hiding my wince as the stitches pulled, the image of the Elf spread and naked beneath me tickling at the edge of my memory, "Oh, I dunno, mon. Da Guild Master got 'is letter dis mornin' I 'tink. Gotta wait on 'is reply. Also gotta go see da healer for mah ribs later dis mornin'." I sighed, leaning back to stretch a kink in my back, tilting my face toward the ceiling, "I guess I be stayin' for a while. I hear ole' Katoom could be usin' some help. Keep mahself busy while I wait."

The Orc snorted, shaking her head, "You Trolls have no sense of self preservation. You garner injuries that would be fatal to most, and needlessly stumble into a situation that will surely cause further damage. Foolish."

"He's not foolish!" Jaz piped, spitting a tiny sliver from between her teeth, "He be keepin' 'imself busy!"

"Oh? Is that what you were doing last night when your foot shattered his room door? You were 'keeping yourself busy'?"

Jazlok had the good sense to look ashamed, and went back to chewing her foot. Myself, I just laughed, "Ya worry too much, Noth. I be fine. Maybe even 'tink a dis as a vacation. Mah cousin always be talkin' 'bout da fishin' in 'dese parts. Might try mah hand at it."

Both woman eyed me; Jazlok excitedly, Noth curiously, "You mean Zin? Is he coming out this way?"

I winced, visibly, "Ah... I dunno about dat, mon. Haven't talked to 'im in months."

"Hm. Last I heard he was in Shattrath, exploiting his leave time from his post in Durotar."

Jazlok pouted, "Ya didn' tell _me_ dat, Noth! I want ta see my Leetle Zin!"

Noth rolled her eyes at the pouting Troll, while inwardly I cheered. There was good reason she kept the information from her companion; I wasn't the only one Jazlok relished harassing, "I did not tell you because it was not important. We were busy with our missions, and save the random scuffle you assuredly feel is necessary to partake in, a trip to Shattrath would have thrown off our time table irreparably."

"We could at least send 'im a lettah! Let 'im know where we be!"

I snickered, "I 'tink dat would keep 'im on da otha end a da planet, Jaz."

She huffed, crossing her arms, "Well, den I'd know where he at, wouldn't I?"

"This conversation is pointless," Noth grumbled, and stood, taking the clay basin in her hands, "Jazlok, get up and leave Atal to his duties. He needs his injuries healed and you are only delaying him."

Jazlok whined and complained, but eventually did what she was told. I watched her hop across the room on her good foot, and made quite a show of having Noth assist her up the stairs to their room. Once they left, I exhaled a heavy sigh of relief, and retrieved some paper and a quill from the Innkeeper. Quickly, I scribbled a note and made my way to the mailbox. When Jazlok got an idea in her head, the chances of talking her out of it were slim to none, and I felt I owed my little cousin fair warning; maybe even the chance for a head start on her. While I loved and adored her like a little sister, no one deserved to have Jazlok drop in unannounced.

Thankfully, I was Jaz and Noth free for the rest of the day. I made my way over to the Healer's hut an hour or so before midday, and lay agonizingly as he worked his magic. Healing, while a great thing, was inevitably painful. The Magic was hot, and the feeling of quickened bone and muscle regeneration was never a pleasant one. I had my suspicions that the Gods made it that way so us poor, stupid souls would think twice about running face first onto an enemy's sword. Once his spell was cast, he allowed me a few moments to lay panting, recovering from the pain. When I had caught my breath, he made quick work of the bandages and removing the stitches from my now healed wounds. The little holes that the linen lacing had gone through would heal in minutes, so they were hardly a concern. The Healer laughed, and patted me, assuring me that I would have no new scars to bear. I thanked him, and made my way down to the pier.

As was mentioned, Katoom needed help with the Snapjaws roaming the beach outside the village. Ten killed, and he would be satisfied. While I was really in no shape for it, I agreed to help him. My lies were easily believed, and I strutted out of town toward the shore.

The fog had lifted considerably over the course of the morning, leaving only a fine, filmy white blanket a few inches above the grassy path. The air was otherwise cool and clear, the sky clouded with the promise of rain. I walked with purpose, feeling light and energetic, the last vestiges of the Healing pain flitting away. It felt great to be whole and healthy again.

Of course, I should have learned by then that any thoughts like that were inevitably tempting Fate to intervene. It was, I supposed, absolutely obvious that I suddenly found myself knocked to my back, the weight of a giant blue Turtle pinning my shoulders down. It huffed into my face, the stink of old fish and sea water blasting its way up my nostrils. The stench was so strong I actually gagged and coughed. Once my stomach was finished clenching, I rolled my eyes and relaxed beneath the great beast. There was only one explanation for this, and I saw no need to struggle. If I was to be killed, I would have been Turtle chow by then.

"Very funny, mon!" I called out, and heard an answering chuckle from somewhere behind the Turtle.

"I thought so. What do you think?"

I looked up into the Turtle's cracked, wrinkled face, and winced, "He be a nasty lookin' beast. An' his breath stinks. Ya know, I jus' got mah bones fixed. Do ya like me bein' helpless, or are da bandages jus' a turn on?"

The Elf laughed again, and crooned soft words to her new pet; the animal eased off, slowly backed up, and rubbed his face against his mistress's thigh, "I'm sure you mean those words in the nicest way possible."

I sat up, taking in a large gulp of fresh air, perversely grateful for the sweet smell, "'Course, mon. Who wouldn't want a giant Turtle on em' dis early in da day?" she laughed again, and I reached out, petting the thing on the flat top of it's nose. The Turtle made a churring sound, and his eyes closed, "What ya name 'im?"

"_Her _name is Soup."

I blinked, staring at the Elf, "Soup? Ya named yer Turtle 'Soup'? No wonda' she got an attitude."

The beast in question hissed, and bumped her face against my fingers, then retreated all four limbs and head into her shell. The Elf laughed again, "See? You've hurt her feelings."

"Bah. Females be tricky dat way. One a yo' many ways a controllin' yer men."

She gripped my hand, helping me into a standing position, "Well, when the method is affective, can you blame us for using it?"

I grinned down at her, keeping her hand trapped in my own, and pulled her flush against my body. She stumbled some, her free hand automatically pressing against my chest to keep herself upright. I felt her breath catch in her throat, watched as the color of her eyes darkened in reaction to our proximity. Arousal was quick and clear on her pretty little face.

"Can ya blame _me_ fo' usin' yo' weakness ta _my_ advantage?"

A sultry smile spread across her lips, white little teeth peeking out from behind them, and I had the sudden urge to taste them, among other things, "For whom is this a weakness, Atal?"

I chuckled, the sound low, "I don't 'tink I care much, mon."

Our kiss was light but deep, the crackle of heat and want between us slow and simmering. When I drew back, her face was flushed and warm, and I couldn't resist the urge to touch, to drag my fingers across her jaw, over her lower lip. Her pink little tongue darted out to lick the digit, making a shiver race across my skin. I knew what wonderful things that mouth could do to mine, and I had to give into the fantasy of what it could do elsewhere.

My thought process must have been obvious, because she laughed, pressing her hips a little closer to mine, teasing my growing hard on with that sultry little body, "You are incorrigible, Troll. I think I actually believe you when you said you would have kept me up all night."

My hands slid over her back, across the swell of her finely shaped backside, "An' inta most a da next day if ya coulda stayed awake dat long."

She laughed again, her arms going up and around my neck, "Ah, such tempting promises you make to me. One would think you have more pressing issues rather than seducing the enemy."

I shrugged, tilting my head, "Mebbe. None a dem are dis much fun, though."

When she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes roving down to my toes and back up, it was a struggle not to groan. The woman could make a simple look unbelievably erotic.

"What do you say we explore these promises you make, Atal?"

Gods above, I swear to you, my entire body locked tight at the sound of that voice, the mental images she conjured for me, "Not dat ya don't tempt me, Elfy, but we be a bit exposed out here. Don't want no one comin' up and catchin' us."

Like most women, she, of course, took that the wrong way. I could actually feel doors inside of her slam shut, lock, and probably shove a few items in front of them, just in case someone decided to come knocking. She withdrew a step, her hands lingering on my shoulders, "You don't want anyone to see you fraternizing with an Elf." It was not a question, a simple statement, and a complete lie.

I growled, and dragged her back to me, making her arch, her back bending as she stared up into my face, "Nah, mon. I jus' don't want no interruptions. I 'tink it'd kill me."

She laughed at that, and those doors eased open a fraction, "Well if that's the only issue, and if you can keep your hands to yourself long enough, follow me."

She squirmed out of my arms, taking hold of my hand and dragging me along. She chirped at her Turtle, who popped out of her shell and ambled quickly along beside us, her great head swinging from side to side as she watched for danger. I had to admit, I was impressed with the way the beast had taken to the Elf – I could recall years ago, and how my first pet had reacted to me. Loyalty was hard won, really.

I really have no clue how she had found it, if it was by chance or by earlier exploration, but my Elf drug me toward the rock face of the Overlook Cliffs, into a niche in the stone that was basically invisible from the path. It wasn't a cave by any means, more like an indent, with a narrow shelf of rock hanging over the top. It went in about six feet, was around the same in width, and carried the echoes of the ocean waves. She pushed me inside, and directed Soup to stand guard at the mouth of the entrance. The Turtle grunted, and lifted her snout for petting, to which the Elf supplied, cooing and praising her. I swear, if the Turtle had a way to purr, it would have.

I stood petulantly, my arms crossing over my chest as I watched her saunter back to me, a wide grin spreading on my face, "So. Now ya got me, Elf. Whatchoo plannin' on doin' ta me?"

Her eyes narrowed, half lidded and glowing, the sway of her hips increasing marginally, "Oh, I'll bet I can think of a few things."

Her hands went to my hips, gently pushing, guiding me back. I pressed against the cool stone wall, my own hands going up to cup her face, to draw her into another kiss. She resisted me, though, laughing softly as she untangled my fingers from her hair. I wanted to question, to ask again what she had planned, but the look in her eyes stopped me. No, I figured, maybe a surprise would be better.

Abruptly, she dropped to her knees, and that immediately gave me a thrill. She leaned forward, kissing my lower belly, the small patch of skin that was exposed between my leather pants and vest. Her tongue followed her lips, licking a short trail below my belly button. I sighed, my hand reaching up again to rest on the top of her head. She glanced up at me, a cheeky grin making her bare her teeth.

"In the mood to rush things, Atal? I thought you a man of patience. You waited ten years, after all."

I grunted, rubbing my fingertips against her scalp, "Not dat I didn' 'tink a ya, Elf."

She purred, nuzzling my crotch with her nose, making me hiss my breath between my teeth, "Such sweet words one always wishes to hear." Her tongue sneaked out, pressing against my growing erection, making my hips thrust out in want. Her disregard of my honest confession stung a little, to be honest, but she was working the laces of my pants, and I decided there were more pressing matters at hand, and my bruised ego could take a back seat.

The salty air around us felt like ice water as she opened my fly and freed my dick, scooping it out with a murmur of pleasure at the sight. Immediately she took to her task, clever fingers wrapping around the base, her moistened lips pressing kisses open mouthed and hot against the head. She looked so pretty down there, happily licking at me, applying suction so softly I had to wonder if I was imagining it. The tingles and pleasure coursing up my cock and into my hips reminded me that yes, she was indeed sucking me off, and I had better stop thinking too much about it unless I wanted to miss out on the best parts of it.

In our youth, the vigorous bout of sex we had shared, I hadn't given her a chance to suck me off. I was young and eager and all too sure of myself at the time, certain of what a woman wanted, and I have to admit that it probably wasn't the best sex of her life. It had been painful for her, I know, with not nearly the amount of discovery that a virgin deserves for her first time. I had taken my fill of her, of course, but looking back on it I realize I was pretty damn selfish. The eagerness with which she licked and tasted now was evidence of that. Idly, I had to wonder how it was she had gotten so good this. Flashes of various, faceless, nameless lovers paraded across my mind, and without any prompting, I felt a rush of jealously course up my spine. My lips curled and I snarled, my hands tangling in her wavy hair, making tight fists.

I tried to cool myself down, to not give in to temper, because really, it was ridiculous to feel jealous over people I had never met. After all, we had been parted for over a decade, and I obviously had had my fair share of tumbles since her. It was only normal for her to seek companionship elsewhere. But my possessiveness fought tooth and nail for control, and as I growled at her, pushing my hips forward, thrusting my cock into her mouth with a severe lack of gentleness, that emotion cheered in victory; instead of drawing away as I had expected her to, nervous of my violence, she moaned deep and low, and her hands stroked up my hips and down. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a healthy flush spread over her face. She was _enjoying_ it.

I smirked, setting a rhythm to my thrusts, "Hn... Dirty, dirty Elf."

She whimpered at the name calling, the pressure of her suction increasing to something desperate, less controlled. Her little hands retreated from my hips to press against her breasts, squeezing and lifting, rubbing over the thick leather where her nipples must have been. She whimpered again, the armor denying her the stimulation she craved, and through it all, I could smell the heady scent of her arousal. The realization had me groaning, shutting my eyes and leaning my head back against the rock wall, pumping my hips in a faster pace, guiding her head with fist fulls of her hair.

The Elf had other plans for me, though, and before I knew it she had managed to pull away from me, lapping at the head of my dick for a moment before tugging my hands from her hair. She pulled on them, dragging me down to the cold stone ground. I went happily, growling playfully and gnawing on her neck. She giggled girlishly, wrapping those long legs around my hips. I ground into her, making that giggle turn into a low moan, her fingernails scratching along my still clothed back. I huffed against her shoulder, lifting myself up on my hands to stare at her flushed, amused face.

"I tink ya should reconsider da type a armor ya wear, girly. It takes too damn long ta take off."

She shrugged, unconcerned, one of those clever hands reaching down between us to grip my dick again, stroking quickly and confidently. Her palm was cool and smooth, sliding across me, slickened by the remainders of her saliva, "Perhaps I simply wish to repay the favor of last night? Great pleasure can be found in the simple act of giving, you know."

Oh, how true I knew that to be. Watching her last night, tasting the affect I had on her as she came against my mouth and tongue... Hells. There was nothing like it, nothing comparable to watching your woman snap like a too tight binding, then unravel beneath your hands. Still, I scoffed at her, shifting so I could squeeze her hip, round over her thigh and press against the restricting laces of her armor, right between her legs, "Ole' Atal gives as good as he gets, Elfy. An' no debt goes unpaid."

She laughed again, at the earnest, serious expression I was giving her, and offered me a shrug again, "Unfortunately, if you were to try, we would have to take my armor off completely in the process. Then it wouldn't just be a simple trading of favors."

"As long as we got da armor off anyway..."

She nodded, slowly, "Then why limit ourselves? Hnn..." she made that soft, frustrated sound seem so sexy, I nearly lost my mind at that point, but her eyes snapped open, full of determination, "In our best interest, as much as I would like the culmination of this... whatever this is... perhaps you should just shut up and let me enjoy you."

Never let it be said that Elves did not posses circular logic. Or maybe that was just a female thing. Gods know I'd been beating my head against a wall for years in trying to figure women out. I couldn't understand why she would choose to leave herself frustrated and aching, when it was just a quick, ten minute chore to get those stupid laces untied and her armor peeled away. I would have waited. I would have been patient. Well... okay, maybe I would just get fed up and rip the stupid things apart, and foot the bill for repairs or a new set of armor later, but who cares? I wanted her, I wanted to feel her again, and she was basically refusing me. But you know what? As much as that hurt, and as much as I understood (sort of) the reasons behind it, I'm still an ultimately selfish creature. I sighed, and moved back to sit against the rock wall again, my legs open and my hands guiding her to me. If she wouldn't give herself to me fully, as much as I wanted to give myself to her, I would still take what I could get. Later, I would allow myself to fall head first into the meaning of that, of the stupid emotions that were coupled with this entire situation, but at that moment, she was leaning over me again, and my cock was taken into the soft, wet suction of her mouth, and I made myself not care.

Sure, cumming in her mouth was a thrill, and it felt great – I can't think of a single person who would claim that a blow job was bad – but it was tainted with my bruised feelings. And that annoyed me, because this wasn't supposed to be about feelings, emotions, whatever. When I set out to find her, it was to scratch an itch, to sate some perverse curiosity. And the fact that she didn't seem to be running along the same line of thought as me was annoying. But, like I said, I'd take what I could get, and let myself be depressed about it later. I guess that's why I kept my eye closed, long after my cock was drained and flaccid. The orgasm was intense, and I guess I wasn't quite up to par with my strength after struggling through the Healing magic earlier. Much to my shame, I fell asleep for a brief time. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, really, but when I twitched and woke myself from one of those stupid dreams where you're falling down a flight of stairs, or tripping over your own feet, I found myself completely alone in the little niche of the cliffs.

I wish I could say I was surprised, but we seemed to be following a pattern now, and all I did was sigh and tuck myself back into my pants. When I emerged, I found that the fog had lifted completely, and the late Autumn sunlight was struggling mightily to warm the ground around me. The cool wind off the ocean battled fiercely against it, giving me a chill.

Of course, the Elf and her Turtle were nowhere to be found. I moved forward without thinking much, heading back to the village. My brain was blessedly silent, filled with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. As I loped along, Katoom cast expectant glances my way, but I just ignored him, ignored the confused expression on his face, on the faces of everyone around me. I probably looked like Hell, with an aura to match, and I found that all I wanted was my bed at the Inn. I was just about to make my way up the stairs into the building when I heard shouting at the gates. I looked over my shoulder, and surprise made me almost fall off the steps.

An Outrunner was coming through the entrance to the village, guiding a large Red Raptor by the bridles. She, the mount, was wild eyed and snapping at any who came too near to her, her tail lashing from side to side in agitation. There were long gashes along her shoulder, scabbed but healing. To my surprise, my packs were still securely fastened to her sides, and looked as full as they had been when she had thrown me all those days before.

I made my way forward, and when she spotted me, I could see the fear draining from her bones. She squawked and jumped forward, running to me like a lost child to it's parent. I put my hands around her neck, pressing my cheek against the side of her head, relief washing over me when she churred and hissed, rubbing her body to mine.

"She's yours, I take it?"

I glanced at the little Blood Elf female, her hands on her hips. I noticed that there was a large Bird standing behind her, splashes of impressive colors fanning out along its feathers. The Armor it wore was as impressive as it's Mistresses, and I made a mental note that this woman was no Outrunner – she was, like myself, probably in Service to Thrall and the Horde.

"Ya mon. Lost 'er a few days ago. Where'd ya find 'er?"

The Blood Elf smiled at me, a surprisingly friendly gesture for her kind, though I couldn't help but notice the way she squared her shoulders, pride tilting her little chin, "If you can believe it, she was inside Jintha'Alor. I don't think they hurt her, though. Those scratches look like Silvermane claws."

I nodded, running my hand along the marks, feeling my mount twitch and pull away. I shushed her, crooning soothing words to her in Zandali, seeking out any other injuries. I found nothing lasting, and patted her neck, encouraging her and thanking her for staying alive. As I stepped back, taking up the bridles to lead her toward the stables, I noticed that the Blood Elf was still standing there, staring at me. Expectantly.

Right, right. Proper gratitude. "Thank ya fo findin' her, Elf."

She smiled again, waving a hand, "Oh, no, it was no trouble. Just a fortunate happenstance."

I felt an odd chill race up my spine, and I narrowed my eye. Blood Elves were not, as a rule, this generous, or friendly. It made me wonder... "So... what ya be wantin' for a reward?"

"Oh, do not worry yourself! As I've said, it was no trouble – hey, wait!"

I smirked, hearing her voice rise in pitch and squeak when she realized I was walking away from her. I looked over my shoulder, still strolling toward the stable, "Whatchoo want, Elf? Ya said ya don't be needin' anytin' from me."

To my satisfaction, her face flushed, partially from embarrassment, partially for irritation, and she hurried after me, "Yes, well, you are _supposed_ to insist, obviously!"

"Oh, _obviously_." I mocked, rolling my eye toward the sky in feigned exasperation. I lengthened my step, perversely amused when she had to practically jog to keep up with me, "Aintcha got nuthin' better ta do? Ya weren't in dat city fo' nothin'."

She flushed a little deeper, her FelGreen eyes narrowing, "Yes, well, I did not actually find anything for Markhor just yet. I thought perhaps returning a lost mount to very ungrateful Troll could be paramount. After all, the bones of his brother aren't going anywhere, and I wasn't sure what they were going to do to your Raptor."

I wanted to be annoyed by that, by her disregard of the feelings of a fellow Troll, but I found her reaction to the whole situation far too amusing. After all, she was a good distraction from my angst. We reached the stables then, and I quickly dug in one of her saddlebags for my coin, which, surprisingly, was all there, and offered up the Stable Master a few silver for use of the facilities. I knew that he had been trained to care for all Mounts of all kinds, but my girl hadn't seen me in over 3 days; she was scared, sore, and needed some proper care. I led her into the stable, happy to see her flop down on the hay with a heavy, grateful sigh, and shut her eyes. I began to work over her scales, wiping them with a soft, warm, wet rag to clean the cuts and scrapes. She churred, and I smiled.

"So I get nothing then?"

Ah, yes. Elves just didn't go away because you wanted them to. In fact, they all seemed to share the annoying personality trait that made them do exactly the opposite of what you really wanted.

"I give you a swift kick in da ass. How 'bout dat?"

"I don't know why you are so surly. I have done you a great favor. It is unfair to not compensate me."

Slowly, I tilted a look at her, disappointed to find that it had little to no intimidating affect on her, "Since when life be fair, mon? Didn' ya jus say it was a coincidence dat ya found mah girl?"

She flushed again, crossing her arms, "Perhaps it was, but that does not negate the fact that I had to fight off a group of Vilebranch so I could free her. You should be grateful."

I shrugged, going back to wiping my mount down, "I am grateful. If ya feelin' da need ta act da Saint for yo deeds, don' be surprised when I take ya up on dat though. Saints don' need no compensation. An' ya said yoself dat ya don' need no reward."

I had to fight had to hold back the grin when she, of all the blessedly wonderful reactions, fisted her hands and stomped one little foot. She was inches close to having a tantrum, and it was fucking hilarious.

"I did not mean it, you stupid Troll! You were supposed to insist, _press_ a reward upon me!"

I laughed out loud then, tossing the used rag in the bucket of warm water, and patted my mount on the neck again, "Well den dat makes you more da fool, mon. We don play da way ya Elves do; we say what we mean, and if ya feelin's get hurt in da process..." I shrugged one shoulder up, and stood to search out some food for my mount, "Don' come cryin' ta me when ya loose ya game."

To my surprise, I suddenly felt a tiny little fist smack right into my shoulder. She had punched me. _Punched me._ Of course it didn't hurt, she hit like a wimp to be honest, but it was still a shock. I looked at her, stunned as she stood there, her small hands up and in a defensive position, her legs spread and bent in a slight crouch.

"I'll show you who will cry! Come on!"

"Elf, don be stupid. Dis innit-"

"I _said_ come _on!_" and she took another swing.

I sidestepped, gripping her wrist as it came toward my face and gave it a good, sharp yank. She tripped forward with her momentum, crashing right into me. Without missing a beat, I swept one arm around her waist, and tipped her over. Her legs swung up, her head swung down, and I carried her, tight to my side, completely upside down. She screeched, flailing and cursing. Of course, when she noticed I was heading toward the watering trough at the end of the stables, her words started to become clearer, kinder. _Desperate._

"Okay, okay! I don't need a reward!"

"Hm? What's dat, Elf?"

"I said I don't need a reward! You thanked me, and that's reward enough! Oh Gods, please don't please don't please dont-"

I moved her out, gripping her calves with both hands, dangling her over the nasty, animal-spit-filled water, and she wailed.

"_Oh Gods I'm sorry I ever bothered you please don't drop me it's so disgusting oh Gods oh Gods please please please please-_"

"Oh, I dunno, Elf. Seems ta me ya be more trouble den yer worth."

She whimpered, sobbed, and clasped her hands together like she was praying. Her eyes clenched shut, and I could feel her shaking in my hands, "Oh please oh please oh please anything you want anything you ask it's yours just say it and oh Gods _please don't drop me in there!_"

Truthfully, by that point, I had every intention of dropping her head first into the trough. It seemed a fitting punishment for harassing me when I was in a nasty mood to begin with. And yes, I was grateful to her for finding my mount, but really, she brought it on herself. But listening to her whimper and cry and beg me not to give in to my temper and darker sense of humor made me stop, stayed my hand. I glanced down at the water, filthy and murky and gleaming with mixed spittle from the various mounts. I suspected the Stable Master often spat in it on occasion, unconcerned for the reaction it would cause to the animals. Really, it was a pretty cruel punishment, even if she was particularly annoying.

Plus, she had basically just opened herself up for something much, much more fun.

"Okays, Elf. I let ya go, but I wan' yer word."

"Yes, yes! My word!"

"Anytin' I want from ya."

"Anything!"

I couldn't help the sardonic laughter that escaped me as I eased her away from the edge, "Elf, ya in for a heap a trouble, now."

I don't think she heard me, or really registered what I had said. I lowered her to the ground, and the little thing curled up on herself, drew her knees up to her chest and huffed out heavy, panting breathes, her eyes wide and wild as they stared at what had almost been her doom. Really, I guess I couldn't blame her for a bit of panic and shock. That water _was_ pretty disgusting.

Still, despite the detour of my brain, my anger and fussing was far from over. I plopped my hand on top of the Elf's head, giving it a less-than-gentle shake, "A'ight, on yo feet, 'oman. We gots work ta do."

She swallowed once. Hiccuped, and pushed herself to her feet. My hand dropped away as she rose to her full height, dusting off her bottom and straightening her armor. She flipped a loose pile of her long, blonde hair over to her back, squared her shoulders, and pinned me with an intense look. Then, the Elf went and did the most _ridiculous _thing.

She bowed from the waist, one hand in a tiny fist, pressed against her chest.

"As my oath is sworn, so must it be fulfilled. What is it you desire of me?"

Now, I know what you're thinking: she opened herself right up for some good ribbing, and believe me, under normal circumstances I would have jumped in head first. Elves, be they Horde or Alliance, are too caught up in propriety to realize some of the shit that comes out of their mouths. And, usually, I like to follow along and sweep their feet right out from under them until they're stuttering fools, shocked that a _Troll_ could have skunked them, but to tell you the truth, I was at a bit of a loss.

"Whatchoo talkin' about mon?"

She remained in her pretty little bow, her eyes shut, "I have sworn an oath to aid you, Sir. I cannot renege on it. Honor demands I follow through. What is your order?"

I was quiet, for much too long it seems, because she lifted her face, peering up at me, her brown drawn down in confusion, "Sir?"

"What if I don want no uppity Elf circlin' round mah heels?"

The question was meant to spook her off; I said it on a low tone, hissing it out between my teeth, with a glare sent her way for good measure. But, ya know, I guess between being thrown from my Raptor, my ribs breaking, and taking one too many knocks to the head, I must have lost my edge. The Elf only smiled at me, and straightened, her arms crossing over her heavily armored chest.

"I would say you don't have a choice. My oath cannot be taken back. Until I am able to perform action that would repay you in kind, I follow. I go where you go."

"I could just drop ya in da water if ya wanna be stubborn."

She shrugged, though I caught the edgy glance she sent toward the trough in question, "If that is what must happen, then it is what must happen. I will clean myself off and track you down."

"Ya be plenty scared a it before, mon."

"That is because I brought it on myself for my own foolishness. To suffer it now would simply be another step on my path to honor. We do crazy things in the name of honor, after all."

I glowered at her, my patience wearing thin, as well as my energy. She held my gaze like a seasoned pro, never wavering, hardly moving at all. Her armor creaked a bit as she shifted just slightly under my gaze, but she remained firm in her stance. She would not back down. And really, I didn't want to deal with the headache she was causing. I sighed, heavily, and shook my head.

"Fine, Elf. Ya wanna play lap dog ta me, dat be your prerogative," I turned my head toward my raptor, "Get dat wash water cleaned up an meet me at da Inn. We gots strategy ta discuss."

She stood at attention quickly, her body snapping into rigid place, and dipped her head in a quick bow, "Sir." I watched her strut into the pen and begin quickly arranging the hay, picking up rags and generally making everything presentable. I shook my head again, and made my way outside and toward the Inn.

Taking a second with me was foolish, I know. My secrets were mine alone, and I was loathe to share them with anyone, least of all a stupid, hard headed, all too insistent Elf. Just thinking about being near her made my blood boil and my lip curl in a sneer. Likely, she would give me headaches and flares of temper the entire span of time she chose to remain in my company, and I wanted none of it.

Of course, I thought, I was apparently masochistic enough... I had already gone through this, hadn't I?

I sighed as I ascended the stairs and down the hall to my room. Well, if the Elf wanted to help me, fine. I sat on the bed, digging through my pack, glad when my hand came into contact with the hilt of one of my weapons. I withdrew the lengthened dagger, smiling slightly as my reflection was caught in the maintained blade. It was curved and wicked, and made a very satisfying squish and snap when buried into an enemy's internal organs. I drew the pad of my thumb across the blade, testing the razor fine edge that I had toiled over myself.

There was a tentative knock at my door, though I had left it open so the Elf knew where to go. I looked up, spying her standing just at the threshold. She had apparently retrieved her sword from the back of her own mount, and I spied the heavy hilt that peeked a foot over her left shoulder. She was geared and ready, and looking eager.

"Come in, Elf. And have a seat. We'll talk."

She did as she was told, perching at the edge of the single table in my room, her hands bracing against the top as she leaned back to look at me, "What is it that we are to do?"

I smiled, slowly, and was satisfied to see a slight shiver race up her arms.

"Elf... we be goin' huntin'."


	7. Chapter 7

"So, My Lord, I notice you have yet to inform me of where exactly we are heading."

"Dun call me dat," I growled, barely resisting the urge to slap my hand over my eyes, "An' ya see where we be goin when we get der!"

Much to my annoyance, the Elf straightened her spine, offering me an amiable smile, "So, in other words, My Lord, you really have no clue?"

"Of course I gots a clue!" I twisted in my saddle, my Raptor squawking indignantly from the sudden tug I gave to her reigns, forcing her to a painful halt. The elf stopped her Hawkstrider as well, the giant bird making the quick motion look almost elegant, his rider mirroring the sudden stop; her body was hardly concerned with the jar, her large eyes blinking up at me, only adding to my irritation.

"iDo you/i, My Lord? If this is so, will you not share with me, for I certainly have no idea what your intentions are?"

The silence that hung between us was telling enough for the aggravating Paladin, and her smug grin had my teeth grinding, but I had to give her points where they were due. We had been out from Revantusk for almost two weeks, steadily heading southward, though our direction had been purely a guess on my part. I had yet to reveal to the Holier-than-thou bitch who exactly our quarry was, and I was less than inclined to dispose that information. I had kept my tryst with the Elf a secret to those whom I held closest to me; there was no way I was willing to spill everything to a stranger.

Still, I knew that if I didn't give her isomething/i, she would either figure it out eventually and make my life that much iworse/i, or she'd annoy me to the point of homicide, and I didn't fancy cleaning Elf blood out of my leathers. To top it off, we were nearing Duskwood, and I ireally/i didn't feel like listening to her prattle on when silence and stealth were a near necessity.

I sighed, and clucked my tongue at my mount, easing her into an easy walk, the Paladin following along beside me, her face turned to me, eyes curious.

"I gots a few contacts in Booty Bay I need ta talk to. Once dat's done, I be knowin' were ta go."

The answer seemed satisfactory enough for her; she hummed and nodded, but just irefused/i to shut up. "So why did we just not take the flight down? Surely going by foot is impractical."

You know, it's just like a woman; you hear a man's reasons, and just because they don't fit in with iyour/i views, it's automatically "impractical".

Still, I managed to curb my temper once again, and sent her a sideways, patronizing look, "Oh? An' what if da gal we be huntin' be hidin' somewhere between here and Booty Bay? Does walkin' be impractical iden/i?"

She shrugged at me, sliding one hand down the thick, glossy feathers of her mount's neck, "I don't think that's really relevant. If you truly thought this person was anywhere between Revantusk and Booty Bay, you would be tracking her better. No... I think you know iexactly/i how to find her, but for reasons that currently escape me, you want to keep this secret." She looked at me then, all teasing irritation having fled from her mind, her expression serious and open. "What iare/i we really doing, Atal? And how can I be of any help to you, fulfilling my vows and getting out of your way, if you refuse to tell me?"

Ya know, some days, I ireally/i hate women.

I sighed again, and slowed my poor girl to another halt, this time swinging my leg up and over in a dismount, carefully leading her off the path toward a grove of sickly looking trees. From there I could smell the grave rot coming from Duskwood, the tell tale stink of death and twisted magic. We were in dangerous territory, both from the Undead and from Alliance patrols, but I knew I could put this off no longer. Tethering my girl to a low hanging branch, I motioned for the Elf to follow, not bothering to look back to see if she was following my directions. I knew she would.

We passed beneath gnarled branches and sparse foliage, until I felt satisfied that we could speak without being overhead by anyone. Some might question our mounts out by the road, but I knew my girl would give us early warning if anything dangerous was headed down the road. I stopped between the trees, staring down at the expectant, curious face of the Paladin.

"Elf... what be your name?"

She blinked, surprised, lifting one of those long, delicate brows, "My name? That's funny. You haven't bothered to ask even once in the past two weeks."

I closed my eye, growling softly in irritation, "Yo' name, dummy."

I could hear her shift, ifeel/i it, and I knew I had struck a nerve. "My name is Rian Moonring. But why does that matter?"

I opened my eye again, hoping the intensity inside of me could be easily read, "Well, Rian... Have ya eva' done sumthin' ya iknew/i would fuck up ya life forever?"

She frowned, her arms crossing, "Well... I've made mistakes, surely, just as anyone has."

Though I knew it was uninvited, I found my hands resting heavily on her armored shoulders, staring straight into her eyes, "What we be doin'... dis could ruin ya life, Rian."

"What? What are you talking about?"

And so, I told her. I kept the details brief... well, as brief as I could be. I'm pretty sure she didn't need a play by play of the way the Night Elf sucked a dick like her life depended on it, but I'm pretty sure she got the general drift of the situation. By the time I was finished, the Paladin was pacing, her hands behind her back. I went silent, watching her go back and forth in front of me, her lips moving in a silent muttering motion, her eyes focused and intent on the forest floor as she turned the news over in her head. Finally she stopped, standing right in front of me.

"I have one question, Atal... Now that I really know what's happening, what are my chances of walking away? Right now. Just take my Hawkstrider and forget I ever met you?"

I crossed my arms, frowning, "Rian... Now dat ya know, I can't let ya leave."

"You would fight me? Kill me even, to keep this secret?"

I shrugged, looking away from her, "I already be betrayin' da Horde by doin' dis... What's one more line on ma' list a crimes?"

She considered for a moment, nodding to herself, her mouth twisting in her silent speech again. "Alright... Now I need to know: why exactly are you doing this? You could have walked away when she left you in the Hinterlands. You could have forgotten all about it, and none would be the wiser. Why go after her?"

"I wish I knew, Elf. But der be sumthin' to her. Sumthin' dat be pulling towards her, an' if I ignore it, it's only gonna fester. I found 'er once, and none a my questions was answered. Dat's jus' gonna bug me 'till I be old an' gray."

She hummed again, and I saw the corner of her mouth twist slightly, lift in a kind of smirk. I don't know exactly what it was she thought she figured out, but it was enough to make her stance relax. She held her hand out to me, and after a moment's hesitation, to make sure she ireally/i understood what she was getting into, I closed my own around it, squeezing and giving it a quick shake.

We made our way back to our mounts and made our way into the shadowy trees of Duskwood.

"I hate this place."

I glanced over at the Blood Elf, taking careful note of how tightly she gripped the reins. I couldn't really blame her for her discomfort; I myself had no desire to be walking down this path, the gut wrenching stench of disease filling the air like some sort of heady drug. Felwood was someplace that I had never expected to end up. I had been through once or twice, but every time I step foot there I didn't feel better for about a month after the fact. The smell of the place lingered on the skin, in your clothes and hair. I wouldn't have even considered it, but our path lay through the Furbolg den, since Rian had not gained passage to Moonglade.

My bitterness toward the Night Elf grew with every step we took, though I had to applaud her choice of destination. Not only was it far enough away that it would take me weeks to reach her, but Moonglade was a sanctuary of sorts. It was filled with her brethren, as well as those once members of the Horde, now following the call of the Druidic nature. None there were loyal to either faction, and when surrounded by a common call, there was a deep sense of peace and neutrality there. Gods help you if you started trouble... Though training others for battle, the Druids in Moonglade did not take hostility lightly.

Of course, the likelihood of her still being there was slim, but at least I knew that her tracks could easily be found again. There was only two ways out of Moonglade for those who didn't follow the Druid's path, and if she had chosen to stay and rest, then be off again, it was a simple matter to find out where her flight had taken her.

At least, that's what I was hoping.

The Furbolg at the entrance of the den greeted us with a raised hand, and that strange, twisting smile over sharp, carnivorous teeth. I bowed my head, the Elf following suit, trying to ignore the leering, suspicious stare of the Bear.

"It is good to see you again, my friend."

I dismounted, handing the reigns off to Rian, giving her a look that told her she was to keep silent, then turned back to the guard.

"Good ta be back, Grazle. Been way too long."

"Indeed." our hands clasped once, tightening briefly. "What brings you to Timbermaw?"

I stepped back, my arms crossing as I stood to my full height, "I be blunt, ma' friend. We be lookin' for someone, an' ma sources tell me she be here, up in Moonglade."

The Furbolg grunted, a strange, snorting noise through his nose, "Surely you would have learned by now that hunting a woman is a pastime best left for the fools, Atal."

My spine stiffened when I heard Rian snicker, and I shot her an irritated look. She hushed, but her smile never faltered, and I tried to curb my annoyance at their teasing. Grazle sighed, and made his way over to his little shady spot, sitting heavily on the woven blanket, his hands resting on his lap.

"May I ask why exactly you are seeking this woman? You have a fine one right there, if you don't mind my saying so."

Rian bowed her head in thanks, but kept quiet, which I definitely hoped she would. "Dat one ain't mine," I jerked my thumb over my shoulder and sneered, "Besides, she be too annoyin' for ole' Atal. Can't keep her trap shut for more den a few minutes."

"Hey!"

Grazle chucked, shaking his head, "I see what you mean, my friend." he motioned me closer, and I sat down across from him, waiting patiently while he packed his long, wooden pipe. The Furbolgs were creatures of nature, just as much as the Night Elves were, and they moved as slowly as evolution itself. He lit the pipe carefully, drawing on it deeply, and only when he exhaled the full amount, did he bother to continue. "You do know that if this... iwoman/i of yours has taken sanctuary in Moonglade, the Druids will not easily part with her."

"Ya mon, I know."

"You would fight the entirety of the Glade? To what end?"

I sighed, scratching at my chin, casting my eye down to my curled feet, "I can't explain it to ya, Grazle. Doin' dat would take too much time, and wouldn't help neither of us none anyways. I don't plan ta fight anyone. I jus' got questions; questions only she can answer fo' me."

"Hm... If it were so simple, Atal, why would she run?"

I had no answer for him, and my empty, pleading stare told him enough. He snorted again, tapping out the ashes in his pipe, before reloading it for another smoke. His eyes grew heavy lidded and contemplating, his wicked teeth gnawing on the well worn end of the mouth piece. He turned his attention then to Rian, who stared passively back at him, and he continued to consider.

We sat still and silent for at least fifteen minutes. I could feel the agitation in my mount and Rian's the need to move, the fear of standing idle. But just as I had warned her, the Elf held her tongue and did not move. Eventually, Grazle huffed again, and stretched his back.

"I believe the one you seek has not left Moonglade, my friend. She is still there, taking sanctuary and hospitality where she can find it. You and your Elf friend are free to pass through the Hold."

I thanked him, and quickly hopped onto my mount, turning her toward the entrance to the tunnel, only to be halted by Grazle's soft, quiet voice.

"Atal, there is one more thing... The answers you seek may not exactly be the kind you are expecting."

I nodded, not completely comprehending, but giving him the acknowledgment he required before he would let us pass. I was not concerned with an elderly Furbolg's cryptic messages... I was iso/i close to reaching the Elf and finding out iwhat the bhell/b/i it was that kept pulling me toward her, and I didn't give much a damn for the consequences. Soon we were ducking beneath the low hanging ceiling of the Timbermaw entrance, the warm darkness closing in around us like an eclipse. I could feel Rian tense beside me, and knew that she was nervous. I reached over, giving her knee a reassuring pat as I led her through the dark tunnels.

All around us I could feel eyes watching, sharp and measuring. The smells were intense; curing leather, burning peat, fruits fermenting in large clay vats. The sounds were minimal, despite the number of clansmen skulking about in the dark. Even the cubs, lively and energetic hardly made a sound as they passed between and behind us, their large eyes wide with curiosity and wonder.

We were about halfway through the maze of passages when Rian reached out to me, her tiny little hand grasping mine over the bridles, tight and shaking. I was curious about her reaction, but kept silent, and only returned the pressure she offered me. It seemed like hours, then, that we finally felt the warm, clean air of Moonglade pass over our faces, minutes before the first shred of twilight breached the unforgiving dark. As soon as we stepped over the threshold of the exit, I could feel Rian relax and slip her hand away from mine. She was still trembling, and a light sweat had broken out on her brow. I frowned, asking her without words if she was alright, but she merely shook her head and waved me off. I left it alone, and turned my attention back to the path.

Moonglade had always held a strange fascination for me, after I had grown into adulthood; that being the Elf's fault entirely. I was serious when I said that at least once during a year my thoughts would return to her, to our one night together, but my curiosity had stretched a bit further than that. I never really put much time into research, but when the opportunity to enter Moonglade had come up for the first time, I had jumped at the chance like an eager whelp. The idea that I could experience something so very intimate to the Night Elves kept me energetic. It wasn't like I was walking through the gates of Darnassus, true, but it was almost like the next best thing. The Glade was like a little cut-out of their territory, permanently twilight, the air sweet, warm and still. As it washed over me once again, I took a deep breath through my nose, and let my eye fall shut. Leather, banked fires, trees and magic.

"It is so still." Rian said, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she were afraid to break the silence around us. I nodded, easing my Raptor into a comfortable walk. She had been there many times with me, and I could feel her muscles relaxing just as mine were. Even if we weren't part of the Druid's Circle, the effect of complete safety had us melting beneath the skin. We were in a place where worries could be forgotten, even briefly. It was something to treasure.

As we neared the central settlement, the sounds of life began to carry on the air around us. Other mounts were moving across the wooden bridges, the Hippogrphys shifted in their nests, other Druids were speaking animatedly around the grounds. And though it was no surprise to me, Rian showed some interest in the light laughter that floated around the trees.

"There are children here?"

"Ya, mon. Most a dem Druids be livin' here der whole lives. Folks breed."

She gave me a look that said in explicit detail what she thought of my sarcasm, her lip curling, "Well, yes, this I iknow/i. I'm simply surprised that they do not bring their children to civilization; to learn, to coexist with others of their kind. Surely they are not developing properly here in the wilderness."

"Leave it to a Elf." I muttered, my eye rolling. She bit back at me, but I wasn't paying attention. I had noticed the eyes on us, curious but wary, carefully calculating our approach to the Glade. Most recognized me and offered me silent smiles, hushed welcomes, but I could see something else in their faces, something hidden and wary. I felt my spine stiffen the slightest bit as I caught the warning there.

They knew why I was there, and they ipitied/i me.

"So... where do we go exactly? To find your Night Elf?"

"You needn't go far, Atal. We all knew well of your coming."

Rian and I turned to look at the Tauren guard, standing to the right of the bridge. She was handsome for her species, her large, dewy eyes staring up at us, one hand gripping the long pole-arm at her side. She seemed rather unconcerned and relaxed, so I didn't feel the need to go too far onto the offensive. If the Druids had been planning an attack, or a forced push to take us out of Moonglade, we would have been approached at the entrance and given once chance to leave peacefully.

I dismounted, again handing my Raptor's bridle off to Rian, "She tell ya I be comin'?"

The Tauren smiled, a strange fondness on her face, "Indeed she did. We were beginning to wonder if perhaps she had cooked up this entire scenario for her own entertainment. Never did think that girl had it in her to be a playwright, though."

I must have looked as outwardly confused as I was internally, for the Tauren laughed, and jerked her head back and over her shoulder, "She's down by the docks if you're ready to see her, though I doubt you'll get a word in edgewise with the younglings crowding her so much. Took a liking to her the minute she dismounted the Hippogryph."

I looked over the guard's shoulder, peering through the twilight at the silhouette of the flight docks. I could see a few mounts pulling in to land, others lifting to the air. The voices were constant, and indeed, the sound of children could be heard well above the rest; clear, like crystal bells.

"Rian, stay put, mon."

I expected protests from the Blood Elf, but she only nodded her agreement. She knew that if I needed her, I'd call. But this... this was something that I needed a little semblance of privacy for.

The trek to the flight dock was a short one, and I could hear the laughter more clearly the closer I got. The kids were indeed excited, speaking quickly, asking questions. I barely heard a word of what they said, my ears instead trained on her voice. It was light, amused, if sounding a little tired as she answered each of their queries in turn. She was happy to speak with them though; you could hear it in her tone.

When I saw her, she looked... well, I guess 'fantastic' would be the right word. She was sitting on the rise of the hill, a few feet from the docks, a ring of children forming a semi-circle around her. Her back was to me, but I could see how relaxed she was. Her spine was curled as she sat there, legs crossed beneath her, elbows resting on her knees. Occasionally she'd lift a hand to punctuate a word or phrase. She was not in her armor, instead wearing a loose linen tunic, the length long enough to be fashionably female, reaching down to well past her knees. Beneath she wore simple cloth leggings. Her feet were bare. Her hair had been braided, resting over her shoulder in loose knots.

Even though I couldn't see her directly, just that sight of her left me struck. I was still pissed at her – Hell, even then I could admit that I want to knock her around for just being that damn istupid/i - but wanting to do something and actually being able to are different, ya know? I may have wanted to kick her skinny ass all the way back to Darnassus, but I wouldn't. Instead, I moved forward, watching as the eyes of six younglings went from rapt attention to curious stares as they honed in on me. She noticed their wavering looks, and glanced over her shoulder.

I had expected her to be shocked, to gasp, Hell, I would have even settled for a double take. She didn't do any of it though. Instead, she turned back to face the kids, and carefully unfolded herself, dusting blades of grass from her behind. She leaned forward slightly, resting her hand on the shoulder of a small Night Elf girl, whispering softly in her ear. The little girl's eyes widened, the white light in them brightening briefly before she nodded.

"C'mon. Let's go." the girl said, her voice soft as she rounded up the other kids like she was a pack leader. I noticed that she seemed to be the eldest of them, and her direction seemed to be of no surprise. As they disappeared over the hill, she turned back to face me, curiosity and a strange eagerness in her face.

Once they were gone, I turned my attention back to the Night Elf, finding her staring at me as well.

And ya know, I still haven't figured out what the Hell it is about her that makes me unable to speak. Sure, I can bullshit with the best of them, but something about that woman puts knots in my tongue. She knew it too, I could see it in her eyes as she smiled, when she took a step forward, the distance between us depleting rapidly.

I wanted to move away, ignore the stupid, tingly feeling creeping on my skin from her proximity. Instead, I stayed rooted to the spot, looking down at her as she looked up. Her smile seemed to grow, pleased with the fact that I did not retreat, and did not advance in hostility.

"Walk with me?"

Her voice was only a whisper, and I noticed then that conversation had hushed to a murmur around us. The people up on the docks, and a few of the nearby guards had quieted enough that they could tune in on us. Curious bystanders, hoping for a drama. Bastards.

I nodded, and followed as she turned and headed toward the trees.

We were quiet for a time, our pace slow, comfortable. It was strange walking beside her, that feeling of contentment settling a little deeper in my gut. It felt strangely right to be there with her, though every one of my other senses were screaming for retribution, for answers, for justice. I knew, offhandedly, that her leaving me high and dry wasn't so bad that it required traveling across the world just to get a little payback, but there was that damn question. Like a giant alert hanging above my head. It wouldn't go away, and I was calm enough to admit to myself that this wasn't about revenge anymore.

No, revenge took a backseat almost a month ago. This was about the question, and she was the only one with the answer.

"I met some very interesting people on my way here, Atal. I believe one of them was kin to you."

My ears perked, and I looked at her, confused, "Mah kin? Whatchoo mean?"

"It is a long story, but he knew your name when I spoke it. In fact, I believe the fact that we are... acquainted... was a tad stressful for him." her hand moved up, gently clasping her throat, the fingers rubbing against a faint, hairline scar, and I felt something in me twist, "Regardless, I only mention it because he... these people.. they are the reason I am not running from you now."

She slowed to a stop, her shoulders set and her face tilted down. It was a weird contradiction. From the neck down she looked confident, resolute. But she hid her eyes from me, belaying an uncertainty I wasn't familiar with.

"We were not together long, and your family.. this Troll, he showed signs of being incredibly weary of me, which I understand and do not begrudge him for. It reminds me of my place in this world... of iour/i place. It gives me strength to do what I must, to face what is to come, though I am admittedly afraid of such resolution, no matter the result of such."

I stepped forward, my hands reaching out to grasp her slender shoulders, tightening briefly, offering comfort though I didn't really want to, didn't think she deserved it. She looked up at me, and all I could see was cold determination there. She was going to push forward, and damn the consequences.

"Elf... what dis be about? What aintcha tellin' me?"

A sad half-smile tilted the corner of her mouth, "Atal, after all this time, you'd think you could speak my name."

I smiled back, offering my embarrassment. It hadn't occurred to me until that point that I had never bothered to ask.

She laughed, shaking her head, "It's Eruanna, Atal. My name is Eruanna."

"Hm. I be likin' 'Elf' better. Your name has too many letters."

When she laughed again it was clearer, sharper. More honest. It had me relaxing further, and I hardly tensed when she reached a hand up, squeezing one of my own over her shoulder.

"You have a remarkable habit of distracting me from the point. Please, grant me peace. Let me finish what I have started."

"No one be stopin' ya, girly."

She laughed again, shaking her head and stepping away, obviously not unaffected by my teasing, but trying her hardest to resist. I grinned at her, showing how pleased I was by her reaction, crossing my arms and standing at my full height. She rolled her eyes at that, snorting as she shook her head again, and continued to walk again. I fell in step easily beside her.

"I suppose then I shall have to tread the waters of the more difficult questions. I ask this with no sense of ego, Atal, but I must know... where do you truly see 'this'..." she spread her arms out in front of herself, her palms up, fingers spread wide, "... this ithing/i going between us? Is it simply a matter of infatuation? A lustful itch that must be scratched? Surely the years have sweetened the memory, and though my longevity allows my mind to be sharper when viewing the past, I must admit that our time together has grown hazy with time. Things happened between us that are no longer in focus, and I fear I am imagining things that had not happened at all."

"Whatchoo' want me ta say, Elf? Dat you be mah Sun and Moon? Dat I'd be yer willin' servant fo' da rest a my days? Don' be stupid."

She hummed softly, considering, "To be honest with you, I would almost be disappointed if you were to prostrate yourself before me. Declarations of undying love and serenades of my Goddess-like beauty grow tiresome."

I snorted, nudging her shoulder with my elbow, "Ya gots a big head."

"Yes, well, you have that affect on me. Ego is apparently contagious."

We walked on in silence for a time, then, eventually finding the pathway, our feet kicking up small shoals of dust. It was companionable, really.

Eventually, she spoke again, her voice soft, "What is your answer, Atal? Do you know?"

Really, I didn't want to answer her, if that wasn't already obvious. She was asking the hard questions, and I knew it tied into the answer that iI/i was looking for, but really... I enjoyed confrontations, as long as they weren't so damn messy and emotional. And, to be honest...

"I dun really know, girly. Ain't like we can go runnin' into da sunset and call it da end, happy days. I know dat ten years ain't a long time to ya, but... I grew up, Eruanna. Maybe dis really is just da itch. Maybe der be somethin' about ya that jus' turns me on and I can't help but want ya. It happens like dat, sometimes. Maybe if we finally get down to it, it'd be over and we can go our separate ways."

She cradled her hands behind her back, looking up at me with open curiosity. I had expected anger, maybe even some resentment or offense, but she showed me none of it. She was truly, honestly open to any avenue at that point, and it made me wonder at the maturity changes an Elf goes through. Really, 10 years was like a drop of water in the ocean for an Elf's life span. As far as I figured, she should have still been that snotty, uptight youngling I had met a decade ago. Something had changed...

"If sleeping with me will put you at ease, Atal, I will gladly do it."

I sneered, growled low, "Don't be doin' me no favors, Elf. I don't accept pity sexy."

"The only one who would think of it as pity would be you," she stepped forward, her body heat mingling with mine, pushing past the barriers and warming me from the inside out. I hated the way she could do that, but my hands moved out, ghosting across the curve of her waist, over the swell of her hips, regardless, "My behavior back in the Hinterlands should have been testimony enough to that fact. My want for you is genuine, Atal. You bring out desires in me that I have no comparison for. I do believe you have ruined me."

The devilish smirk she offered me was enough to be my undoing, and the drop in her voice was just adding insult to injury. I growled louder, burying my hands into that loosely knotted braid, pulling strands out of their weave as I demanded, forced her head to tilt to accommodate me, and sealed my mouth over hers.

She tasted as fresh and alive as she had a month ago, though I found the lack of sea salt to be a slight loss. The flavor of the ocean agreed with her skin, but being replaced with earth and greenery wasn't a bad trade off. She was warm and pliant, melting into me with an eagerness that made my toes curl. She whimpered into my open mouth, her tongue meeting mine with a desperation as I leaned over her, forcing her back, to cling to me to keep her balance.

When I drew away, it was only to press kisses along her jaw, across her neck. I think I murmured her name a few times – in my defense, the Elf is a Hell of a kisser, so shut up. I couldn't exactly help not being in the right frame of mind. It didn't matter then, how angry I had been with her, or what we were going to do later. She was in my arms again, and that was the question, wasn't it? Why had I spent so long denying that that was were I wanted her?

Of course, as I'm sure you're used to by now, my enjoyment was to be short lived.

The sound of giggling, and feet crashing through the underbrush brought my head up, made our muscles stiffen, though we weren't fast enough to release our embrace before the little Night Elf child came into view. She had been running and laughing, her light pink skin a little darker around her cheeks, showing exertion as she panted. I looked at her curiously, wondering what was happening, when I hear a familiar, high pitched yell drifting through the trees toward us.

"Binti! Get back here! Ooooh, he's going to ikill/i me!"

Rian crashed through the trees then, her arms encircling the little Elf child and spinning her around, up off her feet. I felt Eruanna tense in my arms, but she relaxed almost immediately when the little Elf, Binti, started to giggle, flailing playfully in Rian's hold.

Then, her words froze me straight down to the core, and if Eruanna hadn't been so quick with her reflexes, she would have fallen to the ground as I let her go.

"Momma! Momma, help me! She's tickling!"

Rian looked mortified, apparently just then realizing that we were standing in front of her. Slowly, she let go of the child, who sprinted toward Eruanna, clutching her tight and giggling. Eruanna returned her embrace, though her eyes had locked to mine. Neither of us rescinded.

Binti seemed to notice what was happening, though, and we both looked down at her at the same time when she spoke again.

"Momma? I'm sorry, I... we were just playing. I didn't mean to interrupt you. Please don't be angry at me."

"No, no, no," Eruanna knelt before the girl, brushing her lavender hair behind long, pointed ears, smoothing down her clothes, holding her hands, "I am not angry, little one. You surprised us, is all."

"I apologize as well, Madam. When she told me, I thought-"

Suddenly, Eruanna's eyes went sharp, focused on Rian, then back to her daughter, "What did you tell her, Binti? What did you say?"

The Little Elf looked nervous, glancing between her mother and I, and I couldn't fathom why. Not when the shock of my Elf being a mother was still so damned fresh in my brain.

"I'm sorry, Momma! But.. I'm never allowed to tell anyone, and you said I should be iproud/i of him! And Rian... Um, Lady Moonring answered my questions and I wanted to know so ibadly/i."

As tears began to slide down her little face, her mouth curled down, her chin trembling. Straight, white teeth showed beneath her lips, and my shock was sent to a stand still as I took note... I moved forward, and Eruanna held her daughter's hands a little tighter, sensing my movement.

"Elf..." I said low, a warning, demanding an answer. I saw her sigh, her shoulders slump before she stood again, turning to face me.

She moved Binti in front of her, her hands moving to the girl's shoulders, a sign of protection. The little Elf was trembling, sad, frightened tears still rolling down her cheeks, though I could see she was not afraid of me. Nervous, perhaps, but there was no fear. She was more afraid of the repercussions of disobeying her mother than of a Troll three times her size.

I squatted down before her, her eyes staying trained to mine as I took her in.

She was short, much shorter than I expected a 10 year old to be. Her skin was a fair, light pink, almost white in color when in the correct lighting. Her eyes were like her mother's, large and tilted, bright as fresh snow. Her hair, though... her hair, her ears... the stubborn set of her chin. They were all mine.

I blinked, confused and still taking her in as she reached out to me, one hand gripping the curve of my tusk, giving it a little shake. I touched that hand, surprised at the coolness of her skin. She smiled carefully at me, and I focused in on what I had noticed before.

From the corners of her mouth, I could spy the beginnings of two tiny, delicate looking tusks.

I stood, turning away and moving down the road. There was no sound from the Elf and her daughter, only the steady beat of Rian's mail boots as she ran to catch up to me.

She must have been asking me questions. Demanding. Yelling. But I didn't care at that point.

Right then, all I wanted was to find my mount, dig in my saddle bags for the flask of Ogre Mead I had stashed, and forget I had ever clawed my way into the world.


End file.
